THE  DESERT  AND   MRS.  AJAX 


-TWJSTK1)  ABOUT  AND  STRUCK  OUT  WITH    ALL   HER  FORCE 


The  Desert  and  Mrs.  Ajax 

By 

EDWARD   MOFFAT 


Illustrated 


NEW  YORK 

MOFFAT,  YARD  AND   COMPANY 
1914 


COPYRIGHT,  1914,  BY 

MOFFAT,  YARD  AND  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK 


ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 

Published  Marc  A,  1914 


TO 
MY  MOTHER 


M532957 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

— Twisted  About  and  Struck  Out  with  All 
Her  Force Frontispiece 

FACING 
PAGE 

"  Steer  Him  More  Port,  Altamont  "       .     .     38 
"  Bishop  Sorensen  from  Bull  Valley  Stake  "     178 


CHAPTER  I 

DICK  HOLLY  was  nearly  home.  Marooned  on 
the  sun-bleached  platform  of  Ami  flag  station  amid 
an  assortment  of  glaringly  new  pigskin  bags,  he 
was  impatiently  kicking  his  heels  against  the  side 
of  his  trunk  and  waiting  for  yesterday's  unappre 
ciated  comforts  to  depart. 

Without  a  sign  of  regret  on  his  bronzed  face, 
he  saw  them  roll  away — damask  and  silver,  cut 
glass  and  genial  African — with  all  their  crowding 
memories  of  six  months  in  the  East,  of  strange 
scenes  of  pomp  and  glitter  and  tumultuous  en 
deavor — all  dwindling  down  into  the  shining  plain 
and  fading  at  last  into  a  mere  smudge  of  smoke 
against  the  horizon. 

Before  him  lay — the  Desert.  Between  the 
shifting  slopes  of  the  sand  hills  he  saw  it  in  all  its 
hypnotizing  vastness,  glittering  and  twinkling  un 
der  a  summer's  sun.  A  gray-ash  sea  of  sage  bil 
lowed  up  from  its  softer  stretches  and  broke 
around  the  whitened  platform  under  his  feet,  but 
elsewhere  it  rolled  away,  unrelieved  and  unmeas- 


2       THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

ured,  into  distant  banks  of  haze  where  a  grotesque 
armed  Joshua-palm  lurched  to  and  fro  in  the  heat, 
or  where  it  curled,  wave-like,  around  islanded 
buttes  with  black,  jutting  scarps.  Here  and  there 
dry  lake  beds,  golden  yellow,  glittered  in  the  smoky 
distance,  glaring  up  at  the  crackling  blue  vault  like 
eye-holes  in  a  skull,  while  across  their  hot  floors 
bands  of  dust-dervishes  came  spinning  in  fantastic 
pirouette.  Whirling  erratically  on  unseen  pivots 
and  scudding  madly  hither  and  yon  they  dissolved 
magically  every  moment  in  mid-air,  only  to  rise 
again  as  quickly  in  spasmodic,  agitated  spirals. 
And  over  and  through  it  all,  from  some  unknown 
bourne,  came  a  keen,  dry  wind  which  blew  un 
ceasingly. 

"You  can't  beat  it!"  the  traveler  murmured. 
"  This  is  the  real  thing.  A  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
of  just  plain  distance.  Now,  that's  what  I  call 
scenery!  " 

Yet  there  was  more  to  see,  for  far  across  the 
desert,  high  above  the  sand  bluffs  banded  red  and 
yellow  like  some  mammoth  layer  cake,  lay  his 
mountains,  rimming  the  cup  with  a  saw-toothed 
edge.  Waterless,  lifeless,  gaunt,  and  grim,  barely 
garmented,  in  fact,  with  decent  earth,  the  stark 
spines  ran  down  to  the  bone-dry  plain  like  the 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX       3 

gnarled  fingers  of  some  giant  hand,  searing  the  eye 
with  their  ghastly  ugliness. 

The  tall  traveler  tugged  at  his  mustache  in  silent 
satisfaction.  Yes, — it  was  all  there — all  of  that 
bright,  barren,  unlovely  land  he  loved,  just  as 
it  had  lived,  well  remembered  and  aching,  in  the 
back  of  his  head  for  a  long  half  year.  And  if, 
with  the  sense  of  heat  and  light  and  infinite  dis 
tance,  he  felt  once  more  the  lifelong  thrill  of  free 
dom,  it  was  because  he  had  come  back  at  last  to 
his  own — back  home. 

Dick  Holly  had  gone  East  to  sell  a  mine — and 
he  had  sold  it.  For  thirty  hard  years  he  had 
fought  those  same  bleak  ranges  and  windswept 
plains,  prospecting,  farming,  milling,  and  mining, 
and  now  at  forty-two  the  man  had  won  and  all  his 
troubles  were  behind  him.  All  were  gone,  the 
years  of  poverty,  hardships,  privations,  the  days  of 
discontent — everything  except  the  occasional  lone 
liness  of  a  life  too  uncertain  for  marriage. 

He  turned  away  from  the  desert  and,  musingly, 
poked  at  his  baggage  with  his  toe.  Fifty  miles 
away  over  there  behind  the  hot  hills  at  Bullionfield 
men  were  busy  tramming  ore  in  a  mine  which  he, 
and  another  man's  engineers,  knew  had  established 
him  for  life,  yet  there  was  work  to  be  done  in  Ami 


4       THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

before  he  set  out  on  the  homeward  lap  and  the 
golden  levels  of  the  "  Yellow  Dog  "  must  wait. 
Voices  were  calling  from  the  keen-aired  slopes  of 
the  Mormons,  purpling  in  the  haze,  and  the  sweet 
scent  of  his  orchards  over  Moab  way  was  in  his 
nostrils,  yet  to-day  he  would  tarry  awhile  in  Ami 
and  hear  what  was  to  be  heard.  His  deal 
with  Osgood  Warder  in  Philadelphia  had  been 
almost  ruined  at  the  last  moment — and  some 
unknown  enemy  in  Moab  or  Bullionfield  had 
done  it. 

Across  the  road,  in  what  little  remained  of  the 
once  notorious  "  head-end  "  camp  of  Ami,  Holly's 
roving  eye  caught  sight  of  its  only  sign  of  life. 
"  Ami  is  surely  a  sincere  sleeper,'*  he  meditated. 
"  Old  Flatwheel  Mullen,  behind  'The  Silver  State' 
bar,  is  the  only  one  awake.  He's  my  man,  I  reckon, 
but  he'll  sure  be  crazy  to  hear  about  New  York — 
I  must  think  up  some  awful  capers." 

But,  much  to  Holly's  disappointment,  "  The  Sil 
ver  State  "  proved  nearly  as  lifeless  as  the  desert 
outside.  A  few  resigned-looking  Mormon  freight 
ers,  in  patched,  blue  overalls,  dozed,  disheveled 
and  unshorn,  among  the  droning  flies — in  the  rear 
an  Eastern  consumptive  poked  the  pool  balls  list 
lessly  about.  The  ancient  fame  of  Ami  had  with- 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX       5 

ered  as  doth  the  winter  leaf.  Ami  was  indubitably 
dead — and  Holly  said  so. 

"  Doghouse  is  dead,  too,"  Flatwheel  retorted, 
from  a  strategic  position  behind  the  bar.  "  I  knew 
the  rush  wouldn't  last.  Swearing-Johnny  Murdock 
threw  up  his  lease  on  *  The  National  Mint '  and 
came  back  last  night.  He  said  he  might  have  been 
just  a  foot  short  of  a  million  dollars,  but  to  his 
positive  knowledge  he  was  more  than  forty  miles 
from  a  drink." 

"  No  water,  I — er — presume." 

"  No  whisky,"  corrected  Flatwheel,  then  red 
dened  under  the  other's  amused  eye.  "  You  can't 
make  a  new  gold  camp  on  this  desert  with  water 
at  fifteen  dollars  a  barrel.  Or  whisky,  either," 
he  sighed.  "  But  how  about " 

"  Is  that  all  your  news,  old  timer?  About  half 
of  Broadway  thinks  Nevada  is  one  of  our  '  islands.' 
What  else  is  strange  in  these  parts?  " 

"  Ickelheimer  went  loco  yesterday.  Run  clean 
out  of  celluloids  up  to  the  store  just  when  there's  a 
dance  and  a  new  school-marm  down  to  Dutch  Flat. 
But  what  did  you  think " 

"  Young  or  old?" 

"  Boiled  about  four  minutes,"  answered  Flat- 
wheel,  and  scored  at  last.  "  Of  course,  you  didn't 


6       THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

miss  it  in  those  New  York  papers  how  Cal  Wilson 
was  finally  obliged  to  shoot  up  Shorty  Baker?  " 

"  Shorty  always  was  a  careless  locator,"  the  tall 
man  murmured  guardedly,  behind  his  tawny  mus 
tache.  "Jumping  claims  again,  I  suppose?'* 

In  answer  the  ancient  Flatwheel  plucked  the 
cigar  from  between  his  teeth  and  smote  upon  the 
bar. 

"No,"  he  roared.  "Not  jumping.  He  was 
circulating  low  statements  about  Cal's  ore. 
That's  just  where  Shorty  snarled  his  rope — what 
I  said  to  him  when  they  brought  him  in  here  and 
spoiled  my  pool  table  for  me — the  last  words 
Shorty  Baker  ever  heard.  *  Shorty,'  said  I.  '  Plays 
like  you  made  won't  go  in  Nevada.  Your  judg 
ment's  horrible.'  " 

Holly  straightened  up  from  his  ease  against  the 
bar  and  unsheathed  a  searching  gray  eye. 

"Is  that  all,  Tom?  Isn't  there  something 
else?" 

The  old  man  caught  the  look  and  put  away  his 
whims. 

"  There's  two  things  that's  happened,"  he  an 
swered  in  lower  tones.  "  The  first  is  that  a  man 
named  Macklin,  who  owns  the  Atlas  Mine  that 
side-lines  you  over  at  Bullionfield,  was  in  town  yes- 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX       7 

terday,  stating  that  you  were  in  for  a  lawsuit.  That 
old  fool  of  a  George  Buckner  from  Moab  had  him 
in  tow  and  when  they'd  lickered  they  were  right 
noisy  about  what  Macklin  could  do  to  your  prop 
erty  if  he  liked." 

The  big  man,  with  the  untroubled  level  eyes, 
only  shook  his  head. 

"  He  guesses  we're  working  the  extension  of  his 
vein  in  the  Yellow  Dog,  but  as  he's  never  done  any 
work  on  his  claim  to  show  how  the  ore  lies,  he'll 
have  hard  work  to  prove  it.  But  I'm  someways 
surprised  at  old  George  Buckner,"  and  Holly 
looked  puzzled.  "  Just  before  we  closed  the  deal 
back  East,  my  people  told  me  they'd  had  threaten 
ing  letters  from  parties  out  here,  but  had  concluded 
to  take  a  chance  and  go  ahead.  If  that  was  really 
some  of  Buckner's  work — I  don't  think  Macklin, 
himself,  is  smart  enough."  Holly  tilted  his  felt 
hat  over  his  eyes  with  the  same  huge  hand  that 
caressed  the  back  of  his  head,  and  yawned  and 
stared  thoughtfully  at  nothing.  "  Poor  Uncle 
Georgie,"  he  said  at  last.  "  Made  a  swing  and 
broke  his  pick.  Ever  since  he  sold  me  the  Yellow 
Dog  for  the  price  of  an  abandoned  well  he's  been 
hating  himself  worse  than  a  Piute.  If  old  Georgie 
only  knew  what  forty-nine  per  cent,  of  that  mine 


8       THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

brought  in  to  me  he'd  be  an  early  bird  at  locating 
claims  for  several  years  to  come.  But  what's  the 
other  thing?" 

41  It's  this,"  was  Flatwheel's  sober  answer. 
"  They've  found  Dan  Drew!  " 

"What?"  shouted  Holly.  "  Dan  Drew  went 
north  more  than  three  years  ago." 

"  Dan  Drew  never  went  north,"  refuted  old 
Tom,  with  burning  eyes.  "  Dan  Drew  never  got 
farther  away  than  ten  miles  from  your  own  ranch. 
They  found  Dan  Drew,  with  his  back  shot  full  of 
holes }  covered  up  in  a  sand  hill  in  the  Devil's  Play 
ground  !  " 

The  ranchman  puckered  up  his  lips  in  a  noise 
less  whistle.  Dan  Drew  alive,  he  only  remembered 
as  a  wandering  prospector  and  one-time  owner  of 
the  Atlas  claim,  but  Dan  Drew  dead — and  shot  in 
the  back — was  another  matter.  Searching  his 
memory  for  reasons  why  he  should  ever  have  be 
lieved  that  Drew,  with  the  unappeasable  claim 
hunger  of  the  prospector,  had  gone  north  with  his 
burros  into  Idaho,  he  found  little  that  was  tangible. 
Likewise,  when  he  experimented  on  some  connec 
tion  between  Drew  and  old  Joe  Macklin,  the 
shiftless  bar-room  miner  of  Bullionfield,  he  made 
even  less  headway.  And  yet  his  instinct  told  him 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX       9 

that  these  things  were  very  surely  about  to  involve 
his  own  interests.  Macklin  and  the  Atlas — Buck- 
ner,  the  "  jack-Mormon  "  storekeeper  from  Moab 
— and  poor,  forgotten  Dan  Drew — around  these 
suddenly  connected  four  his  mind  busied  itself  in  a 
swift  attack,  searching  for  the  loose  ends  of  the 
knot. 

"  Probably  Macklin's  an  old  side-kicker  of 
yours,"  the  facetious  Flatwheel  remarked,  "  but 
he's  the  first  man  /  ever  see  with  his  picture  tat 
tooed  on  his  arm.  That's  what,"  he  said,  as  he 
concocted  something  in  a  bar  glass.  "  A  side 
winder  with  its  fangs  out,  just  jumping  from  the 
coil." 

"Where?  What?  Houfs  that?"  asked  Holly, 
with  a  start. 

"  On  his  arm,  I  ree-peet.  Don't  shy  your  drink, 
compadre.  It's  a  real  old  '  Silverado  Settler  '  I've 
been  mixing  for  you  ever  since  I  saw  you  escaping 
from  that  brunette  gentleman  on  the  train." 

"  It  looks  like  a  '  settler,'  "  and  Holly  muddied 
it  doubtfully  with  a  spoon.  "What  kind  of  a 
mark " 

"  Who  all  did  you  see  back  East?  "  interrupted 
Flatwheel,  determined  to  be  thwarted  no  longer. 

"See?"  responded  Holly  vaguely,   while  his 


io     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

mind  strained  itself  across  a  gap  nearly  thirty 
years  wide.  "  Oh,  I  saw  a  crew  of  genial  old 
pirates  at  their  clubs  and  some  high-haired  Willie- 
boys  eating  cigarettes  with  their  meals.  One  of 
them  asked  how  far  a  man  would  have  to  walk  to 
find  a  claim.  They  have  some  sweet  ideas  about 


a  mine." 


Holly  turned  away  and  buttoned  up  his  duster. 
A  peculiarly  fitting  revenge  on  Buckner  of  Moab 
had  occurred  to  him  at  just  that  moment  and,  fur 
thermore,  he  wanted  to  do  some  thinking  about  the 
man  with  the  tattoo  mark  on  his  arm.  Alto 
gether,  as  he  figured  it,  there  would  be  just  about 
time  enough  to  set  his  revenge  in  motion  and  then 
he  had  better  jog  along  home.  "  Yes,"  he  medi 
tated,  with  a  grim  chuckle,  "  I  reckon  that  by  this 
time  to-morrow  home  will  be  about  the  safest  lit 
tle  spot  on  the  whole  Moab  desert  for  me." 
Quickly  inventorying  the  human  contents  of  "  The 
Silver  State  "  and  finding  no  worthy  tool  at  hand 
to  carry  out  his  Machiavellian  designs,  he  left  his 
drink  untasted  and  strode  in  the  direction  of  the 
door. 

Flatwheel,  in  dismay,  saw  his  long  sought  op 
portunity  slipping  away  before  his  very  eyes.  With 
the  departure  of  the  big  man  his  senile  dreams  of 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     n 

the  Great  White  Way  would  forever  lack  con 
firmation. 

"  Don't  be  in  such  a  tearing  hurry,  Dick,"  he 
yelled.  "  Can't  you  even  tell  a  fellow  what  you 
think  of  New  York?  " 

The  door  reopened  and  a  cloud  of  tobacco 
smoke  puffed  in. 

"  It  looks  like  a  permanent  camp." 

The  sandy  bed  of  "  Twenty  Mile  Canyon  "  was 
only  a  faintly  luminous  streak  of  gray  next  morn 
ing  when  Holly's  bays  clinked  down  its  winding 
course  and  whirled  him  out  on  the  Moab  desert. 
But,  early  as  it  was,  "  The  Great  Buckner  Gold 
Strike  of  1907  "  was  ready  for  the  tablets  of  His 
tory,  for  in  the  pifion-dotted  confines  of  the  canyon 
which  the  amused  traveler  was  rapidly  leaving 
behind  him  a  knot  of  highly  suspicious  persons 
were  gathered  around  a  gray-bearded,  discomfited 
old  man.  This  gentleman  was  responding  to 
verbal  and  physical  proddings  by  frequent  ex 
hibitions  of  some  snow-white  quartz  on  which  the 
gold  lay  in  preposterous  yellow  knobs,  much  as  if 
it  had  been  roughly  daubed  with  butter.  He  was 
further  defending  his  difficult  position  by  parrot- 
like  repetitions  of  some  fragmentary  information 


12     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

gleaned  from  an  unknown,  mysterious  messenger 
of  the  night  before. 

"  Suppose  we  sort  of  cast  an  eye  on  that  valible 
sample  of  your  bonanza,  George,"  they  said,  and 
forthwith  roughly  took  it  from  him. 

One  look  was  enough,  and  a  roar  went  up  to 
the  bright  Nevada  morning.  "  California  gold!  " 
they  shouted.  "  *  Oleo  '  like  that  don't  grow  in 
Nevada  dirt!" 

"  But  I'm  tellin'  you,  Nevada  don't  follow  no 
geologic  probabilities,  gents,"  protested  the  sus 
pected  one.  "  This  yere  ore,  like  as  not,  was  put 
in  this  canyon  by  One  who  knows  a  dern  sight 
more  'bout  rocks  than  you  nor  me !  " 

"  Then  we  reckon  that's  Dick  Holly.  We  never 
saw  that  bay  team  travel  so  fast  away  from  a  gold 
strike  before."  Whereupon  half  a  hundred  dis 
appointed  men  eyed  each  other  sheepishly  for  a 
moment  and  then  threw  back  their  heads  and  ex 
ploded  in  laughter. 

"  Butter-gold  and  snow-quartz  in  the  heart  of 
the  malapai,"  they  guffawed,  and  left  him  for  their 
teams  tethered  under  the  pinons.  "  If  Professor 
Buckner  wants  to  ketch  one  of  them  little  geologic 
probabilities  running  around  off  the  Mother  Lode 
he'd  better  trail  that  side-bar  buggy."  And  one 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     13 

after  another,  still  exploding  with  laughter,  the 
gold-seekers  turned  their  horses  homewards,  al 
ready  shaping  up  the  story  for  future  generations. 

Meanwhile,  it  promised  to  be  a  long,  hot  ride 
to  where  Moab  showed  in  a  small,  dark  spot  across 
the  plain,  and  when  the  bay  team  had  settled  down 
to  their  tireless  trot,  Dick  Holly  was  sitting  bent 
loosely  forward,  his  soft  hat  pulled  down  level  with 
his  eyebrows,  his  rein  hand  hanging  listlessly  across 
his  knee.  In  the  interval  since  yesterday  a  small 
matter  of  identification  had  been  clearing  itself  up. 

He  was  sitting  again  on  the  feed-sack  cushion  of 
a  rocking  freighter,  while  around  him  the  same 
thirsty  plain  stretched  away  into  the  smoky  dis 
tance.  The  same  crisp  "  cla-a-a  "  rose  up  from 
the  wheels  cleaving  the  sand  of  the  draws  and  he 
looked  up,  as  now,  to  a  blinding  sky  or  down  to 
the  powdery  dust  streaming  off  the  tires.  Wedged 
in  between  two  others,  a  boy  sat  with  his  palms 
pressed  tight  together  between  his  knees,  employ 
ing  his  active  mind  throughout  the  long  day  as 
best  he  could.  Sometimes  he  looked  up  to  a  patient 
woman  in  sleasy  black  whose  sad  eyes  seemed  to 
look  only  towards  California,  and  sometimes  he 
stared  at  a  vague-faced  figure  whose  boot  was 
curled  around  the  brake  rod,  but  always  his  in- 


14     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

quisitive  glances  came  back  to  the  arms  half  bared 
above  the  driving  cuffs.  As  if  it  were  only  yester 
day,  Dick  Holly  could  see  those  bright  markings 
on  the  flat  of  the  forearm.  He  could  even  re 
member  how  quickly  the  boy  had  recognized  the 
snake  he  knew  so  well,  with  its  triangular  head 
and  its  black,  venom-tipped  tongue  thrust  forward 
in  the  strike.  It  was  all  too  keenly  remembered 
for  mistakes  to  creep  in  now,  and  the  man's  lips 
tightened  as  he  tried  to  shake  it  off  and  put  his 
mind  on  what  was  to  come  out  of  the  discovery. 
But,  try  as  he  would,  sharp  fragments  of  the 
tragedy  kept  coming  back. 

In  their  rear,  he  saw  the  trail-wagon  with  its 
scant  load  of  household  goods  balking  and  bump 
ing  across  the  yellow  swales.  In  front,  the  last 
four  of  the  old  ranch  horses  plodded  away  from 
what  was  now  another  man's  home  towards  the 
lush  valleys  of  a  kinder  State.  He  saw  the  week 
end  camp  at  Hot  Creek  again  and,  under  the 
paling  stars,  the  vague-faced  man  hitching  up  a 
team  to  the  lead  wagon  for  an  all-day  trip  for 
"  feed."  But  neither  on  that  day,  nor  on  the  next 
did  the  wagon  and  horses  come  back,  and  with 
the  close  of  the  third  day  the  boy  knew  as  well 
as  the  white-faced  mother,  searching  through 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX      15 

their  possessions  for  a  precious  wallet,  that  now 
there  was  to  be  no  California  for  them. 

The  boy's  arm  was  around  his  mother's  neck 
now.  He  was  facing  the  gaunt  mountains  and  the 
untilled  plain  with  a  certain  stout  defiance;  aye, 
and  frowning  up  at  the  blinding  sky  itself.  "  Now, 
don't  you  go  to  feelin'  bad,  Ma.  We're  goin'  to 
stick  it  out  right  yere.  I  guess,  now,  this  yere 
Gawd,  He  ain't  goin'  to  be  so  terrible  down  on  us 
just  'cause  we  gotta  live  in  Nevada !  Some  folks 
says  He — helps!  " 

Holly  woke  up  and  thrust  his  hat  back  from  his 
eyes.  "  Oh-hum,"  he  said  with  a  half  laugh. 
"  Poor  little  cuss.  He  didn't  mean  anything  by 
it." 

By  this  time  the  road  from  Moab  presented  a 
curious  sight,  for  the  troop  of  fevered  gold-seekers 
that  Holly  had  already  met  was  only  a  corporal's, 
guard  to  those  who  now  came  on.  And  as  the 
minutes  flew  and  wagons  and  horsemen  coursed 
steadily  by,  with  always  a  jovial  word  for  the  exile 
escaped  from  the  effete  East,  Holly's  jaw  dropped 
lower  and  lower.  "  Who  could  have  figured 
they'd  be  so  restless?"  he  murmured,  conscience- 
stricken  by  the  alarming  results  of  his  practical 
joke.  "  All  I'd  hoped  for  was  a  little  private  fun 


1 6     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

for  George,  but  hanged  if  he  didn't  put  the  whole 
county  on  wheels." 

Moab's  poplars  came  in  sight,  streaming  up 
straight  and  slim.  Holly  could  see  far  down  the 
arch  of  cottonwoods  which  drank  each  side  in  little 
brooks  gurgling  against  their  roots,  but  he  looked 
in  vain  for  signs  of  life.  Only  a  few  blue  wisps 
of  smoke  appeared,  curling  up  from  the  farmhouse 
kitchens  and,  on  the  fringe  of  the  town,  a  small 
cloud  of  dust.  The  latter  was  caused  by  a  foot 
passenger  approaching  at  a  remarkable  rate  of 
speed. 

He  was  a  fat,  excessively  pink-faced  man  who 
wore  a  pink  shirt  and  the  remains  of  a  gorgeously 
striped  collar  of  the  same  aesthetic  hue.  Occupying 
the  mathematical  center  of  the  road,  he  was  breath 
lessly  maintaining  a  gait  somewhere  between  a  trot 
and  a  waddle.  On  the  face  of  things,  he  appeared 
to  be  agitated.  Behind  him,  what  was  evidently  a 
pursuing  figure  had  lately  taken  form,  which  fact, 
as  he  glanced  apprehensively  over  his  shoulder, 
seemed  to  increase  both  his  agitation  and  his  speed. 

"Am  I  on  my  way  to  the  dee-po?  "  yelled  the 
pink  man  as  he  puffed  by. 

"  You  are,"  the  puzzled  ranchman  replied. 
"But  whereas  the  bear?" 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     17 

The  perspiring  one  turned  a  fear-blanched  coun 
tenance  and  opened  his  mouth  as  if  to  reply.  Then 
he  wisely  closed  it  again,  as  if  every  breath  were 
precious.  With  a  sweep  of  his  hand  he  only  ges 
tured  dramatically  at  the  impending  doom,  and 
scudded  fatly  away. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  pursuer  was  a  woman.  Large  of  frame 
and  red-faced,  wilted  as  her  quarry  had  been,  she 
was,  if  anything,  even  more  exhausted.  As  she 
drew  near  to  Holly  her  courageously  persistent  run 
slowed  down  to  a  walk  and  presently,  after  a  de 
spairing  look  at  the  fast  vanishing  victim,  she 
gave  up  completely  and  sat  down  disconsolately  in 
the  middle  of  the  road. 

The  wondering  ranchman  peered  at  her  over  his 
horses'  heads.  "  How  do  you  do,  ma'am?"  he 
remarked  gently. 

"  Thanking  you  kindly — very  badly,"  replied 
the  woman,  without  deigning  to  look  up.  After 
which  she  proceeded  to  pull  the  pins  viciously  out 
of  a  mass  of  disheveled  hair  and  wind  it  into  a 
hard,  turban-like  knob  on  the  top  of  her  head. 

"  I  trust  you  will  pardon  this  seeming  indispo 
sition,"  was  her  ultimate  remark,  "  but  the  fact  is 
I'm  so  terribul  played  out  I — just — can't — move." 

"  It's  a  real  nice  day,"  said  the  ranchman 
genially.  "  I  guess  there's  time  for  'most  every- 

18 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     19 

thing.  What  seems  to  be  the  chief  trouble, 
ma'am?  " 

The  unknown  sighed  dolefully.  "  That"  she  an 
nounced,  and  pointed  a  finger  of  withering  scorn 
down  the  road,  "  that  was  all  that  is  left  of  the 
celebrated  G.  Edward  Pilkington !  "  She  strained 
her  eyes  after  the  dwindling  dust  cloud  and  her 
voice  began  to  quaver  suspiciously.  Presently  it 
broke  forth  in  a  despairing  wail  which  mounted 
into  tragedy. 

"  And  he  has  runned  away !  " 

The  ranchman  was  still  puzzled.  "  I — I  reckon 
that's  all  true,  ma'am." 

"  Well,"  remarked  the  woman  resignedly,  "  I 
guess  there  ain't  one  bit's  use  to  complain.  He's 
certainly  good-and-gone,  now.  And,  landsakes — ! 
I'm  so  darned  flustered  I  might  not  know  just  how 
to  address  him  even  if  I  did  catch  up  with  him. 
Did  he  mention  that  he  might  return?  " 

"  I  think  he  forgot,"  Holly  answered,  ponder 
ing  over  the  forlorn  figure  in  the  dust.  "  He 
looked  in  such  a  hurry." 

"  Well,  then,"  the  woman  gulped,  "  I  guess 
I'll  just  get  right  in  with  you  and  ride  back  to 
town.  There's  nothing  more  I  can  do." 

"  You're  right  welcome,  ma'am,"  Holly  bowed. 


20     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

u  But  just  one  minute,  please.  My  off  horse  has 
picked  up  a  stone." 

The  woman  rose  at  once  from  the  ground  and 
looked  interested.  She  was  a  stoutly  made  person 
of  middle  age,  with  firm  though  pleasant  features 
and  remarkably  strong  black  eyes.  She  wore  a 
gray,  whipcord  skirt  of  uncertain  years  but  very 
certain  spots,  and  her  neck  and  arms,  which  Holly 
could  not  help  thinking  extraordinarily  large, 
stretched  a  close-fitting  green  jersey  to  its  utmost 
capacity.  As  she  drew  nearer  to  the  ranchman, 
across  her  ample  bosom,  in  the  major  tints  of  a 
California  sunset,  appeared  the  emblazoned 
words,  "  Pilkington's  Circus." 

;t  Which  foot  did  you  say?"  she  queried 
brightly.  "  I'm  mighty  tender-hearted  about  ani 
mals — I  guess  it's  real  lucky  I'm  here.  Perhaps 
if  I  lift  him  up  you  can  get  it  out,"  and  without 
waiting  for  assent  she  began  to  suit  her  action  to 
her  words.  "  He  looks  as  if  he'd  weigh  about 
eleven  hundred,"  was  her  only  remark  as  she  ap 
proached  with  a  business-like  air  and  selected  a 
point  of  attack.  Planting  her  feet  firmly  on  the 
ground  and  grasping  the  horse  by  the  front  quar 
ters  with  a  ferocious  grip  that  made  her  fingers 
sink  almost  out  of  sight  in  the  wrinkling  coat,  she 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     21 

took  a  long  breath  and  then,  with  a  prodigious 
heave,  lifted  the  animal  clear  of  the  ground. 
"  You'll  have  to  hurry  some,"  she  panted,  as  she 
held  a  struggling  leg  imprisoned  under  each  arm. 
"  I  guess  he  don't  like  it." 

"  He — he's  so  used  to  the  ground,  ma'am," 
Holly  murmured,  searching  hastily  for  the  stone. 
"  But  perhaps  it  would  be  all  right  for  you  to  get 


in  now." 


The  woman  lowered  the  animal  carefully  to  the 
roadway  and,  stretching  her  arms  above  her  head, 
proceeded  to  go  though  a  short  course  in  calis 
thenics  remarkable  alike  for  velocity  and  power. 

"  There"  she  exclaimed,  with  explosive  relief. 
"  I  feel  a  heap  sight  better.  I  had  to  do  something 
like  that  or — just — bust!  " 

As  they  drove  down  the  road  towards  silent 
Moab,  Holly  observed  his  passenger  with  an  ap 
preciative  eye.  Now  that  the  enlivening  incident 
was  over,  she  had  lapsed  into  moody  dejection, 
which  involved  a  blank  stare  at  the  dash-board  and 
occasional  gusty  sighs.  In  view  of  the  dynamic 
qualities  she  seemed  to  possess,  so  long  a  silence 
stirred  his  curiosity,  and  he  decided  to  verge  upon 
the  personal. 

"  Of  course,  we  haven't  been  legally  and  legiti- 


22     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

mately  introduced,"  he  said,  "  but  I  judge  it  would 
be  perfectly  all  right  for  you  to  tell  your  name." 

"  No  trouble,"  the  woman  assented  instantly, 
and  came  out  of  her  trance  with  a  cheery  smile. 
"  I'm  MRS.  AJAX,  Champion  Strong  Woman, 
Weight-Lifter,  and  Dental  Demonstrator  of  the 
United  States,  Cuba,  and  the  Philippines.  I  guess 
you've  heard  of  me  before.  When  I'm  feeling 
peart  I  can  lift  five  hundred  pounds  just  with  my 
teeth.  But  I'm  right  poorly  now." 

"  Nerves,  I  reckon,"  was  the  startled  sugges 
tion. 

"  The  trouble  originates  in  the  three  squares  per 
day — we  don't  get  *em"  was  the  succinct  reply. 
"  But,  Land-o'-Goodness !  I'm  an  imported  Cir 
cassian  Beauty  alongside  of  the  scarecrows  down 
to  the  tent.  Brothers  Blondelli  are  so  hungry 
they  bark  when  they  see  meat,  and  Cobrita,  the 
Snake  Lady,  is  that  thin  you  can  hardly  talk  be 
hind  her  back.  Most  all  the  horses  has  died  lately, 
and  the  Trick  Dogs  are  feeling  mean.  And  yes 
terday  the  Wild  Man  from  Java  ate  the  Trained 
Pig  and  went  back  to  the  Reservation!  " 

With  this  last  horrid  disclosure,  the  Strong 
Woman's  voice  began  to  flutter  uncertainly. 
"We've  stuck  to  it  pretty  well — my  husband  and 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     23 

I  and  a  few  others — but  now  the  last  card's  out 
of  the  box.  We  had  it  all  figured  out  to  show  to 
day,  and  maybe  eat  because  the  place  looked  so 
good,  but  right  spang  in  the  middle  of  the  night 
the  whole  town  went  stark,  staring  crazy  and  ran 
away  out  on  the  desert.  When  G.  Edward  heard 
about  that  I  guess  it  was  the  last  straw,  'cause  he 
just  grabbed  the  cash-box  and  absquandered  the 
whole  thing!  " 

"  Thousands— I  guess!" 

"  Twenty  dollars,  s-s-s-sixty-s-s-seven,"  sobbed 
Mrs.  Ajax,  in  a  storm  of  tears.  "  And  I  bet  I 
could  eat  it  all  in  custard  pie !  " 

Although  meditation  on  the  far-reaching  effects 
of  the  Mother  Lode  Rock  ought  to  have  occupied 
Holly's  thoughts  at  this  moment  insatiable  curi 
osity  held  his  conscience  in  torpid  leash. 

"You  don't  mean  you  were  a  circus,  ma'am? 
Not  a  real  one — with  rings  and  trapezes — and  a 
lady  hoop-diver  with  charlotte  roosh  skirts — 
and " 

"  And  a  band  and  a  Katzenjammer  Family  and 
peanuts  and — and — everything"  gulped  Mrs. 
Ajax  through  her  tears.  "  But  it's  all  in  the  dis 
card  now,  Dearie.  This  mining  country  we  heard 
so  much  about's  so  poor  it  takes  two  pee-wee 


24     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

birds  to  sing  one  song,"  with  which  caustic  remark 
the  Strong  Woman  dried  her  tears  and  subsided 
into  intermittent  hiccoughs  of  a  startling  vio 
lence. 

Holly  smiled  and  pondered.  The  last  time 
he' d  seen  a  circus  he'd  ridden  the  rods  to  Salt 
Lake  City  and  crawled,  boy-like,  under  the  canvas, 
with  something  interesting  scheduled  to  happen 
presently  at  both  ends.  "  Night  after  night,  if 
you'll  remember,  youVe  laid  out  on  the  desert 
just  a-moaning  for  that  little  old  clown  again. 
And  the  lady  on  the  spangly  horse!  And  the 
chariot  race!  " 

"  Mrs.  Ajax,"  said  he  abruptly.  "  Your  cir 
cus  can  have  a  paying  audience  of  one,  if  it  wants 
it.  You  know  the  trail — go  to  it.  Can  you  lift 
six  hundred  if  you  eat  meat?  " 

"  Don't  talk  so  loud,"  the  woman  whispered 
hoarsely,  as  she  gathered  up  the  reins.  "  Are  you 
an  angel?" 

"  It  wouldn't  be  hard  to  arrange,"  Holly  smiled. 
"  Old  Nick,  himself,  could  be  elected  one  in  this 
State.  Nevada  likes  to  be  '  broad/  " 

The  Strong  Woman  began  to  consider  him 
with  a  strongly  favorable  look  in  her  shrewd  black 
eyes. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     25 

"  You  could  have  my  vote,"  she  said. 

As  they  drove  down  the  shaded  street  into 
Moab,  Holly's  passenger  heaved  a  sigh  of  satis 
faction.  "  We  haven't  got  far  to  go  now,"  was 
the  cheerful  announcement,  "  and  a  good  thing, 
too.  I  guess  breakfast  is  feeling  mighty  lonesome. 
Git  up,  horsey." 

The  ranchman  heard  no  more  than  the  first 
few  words.  His  eyes  were  on  the  billowing  can 
vas,  the  streaming  pennants  of  thirty  years  gone  by. 
All  alert,  his  slumbering  senses  woke  again  to  the 
acrid  smell  of  peanuts  and  the  well-remembered, 
fresh,  rank  odor  of  trampled  grass.  Once  more 
there  rang  in  his  ears  the  hoarse  cries  of  the 
barker  pleading  with  the  crowd,  while  out  of  the 
dim  and  distant  past  the  majestic  bulk  of  The  Fat 
Lady  on  the  Side-Show  platform  loomed  up  against 
the  sky. 

Down  the  silent  street  drove  the  Strong  Woman, 
while  the  ranchman  stared  fondly  ahead,  waiting 
for  some  corner  to  be  turned  and  disclose  the 
longed-for  sight  in  all  its  inspiring  beauty. 

uHere  we  be,"  the  Strong  Woman  announced 
abruptly,  and  bringing  the  team  to  a  stop  she 
wound  the  reins  around  the  whip-stock  and  pre 
pared  to  disembark. 


26     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

Holly  stared  about  and  his  face  fell. 

"  But  where's  the  Circus?"  he  queried  hol 
lowly. 

"  Right  here/'  responded  Mrs.  Ajax  definitely. 
"Time  to  get  out  now,  Dearie. " 

In  the  middle  of  the  road  in  front  of  them  a 
girl  was  seated  on  a  brass-bound  trunk.  She  was 
a  small,  blonde  person,  wearing  a  flimsy,  yellow 
dress  with  old-fashioned  puffed  sleeves.  Long, 
black  gloves  covered  her  arms,  and  high-heeled 
slippers  adorned  her  feet.  Surmounting  the  yellow 
hair,  she  wore  an  amazingly  large  black  hat  which, 
from  its  precarious  clingings  on  the  side  of  her 
head,  drooped  its  broken  plumes  dejectedly  over 
one  ear.  In  fairer  times  the  girl's  face  would  have 
been  pretty,  in  a  soft,  childish  way,  but  just  now 
it  looked  drawn  and  rather  white.  With  her  chin 
buried  in  her  hands  she  was  staring  listlessly  at  a 
half-dozen  white  dogs  who  lay  disposed  around 
her  feet  in  various  attitudes  of  sleep. 

"Hello,  there,  Cobrita  dear!"  called  Mrs. 
Ajax,  backing  out  from  between  the  buggy  wheels. 
"Where's  all  the  talent  got  to?  Where  in  the 
world's  my  husband?  What's  Clarice  Belvawney 
doing,  I'd  like  to  know — leaving  you  here  all 
alone  ?  Where's  Angelo — and  Alberto  ?  I  didn't 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     27 

catch   him,    Cobrita — and   I   ran — just — all — / — 
couU." 

The  little  blonde  person  slid  down  from  the 
trunk  and  dabbed  her  handkerchief  forlornly  at 
her  eyes. 

"  I'm  awful  glad  you're  back,  Imogene,"  she 
said,  "  but  I'm  afraid  I  don't  know  just  where  they 
are — I've  been  crying  and  feeding  the  dogs  ever 
since  you  left.  Clarice  said  something  about  trying 
to  get  up  a  French  Class — she  says  it  worked  all 
right  at  Piute  Junction,  once — and  Brothers 
Blondelli  went  away  to  look  up  a  man  who  has 
some  cattle,  but  nobody  knows  if  they're  going  to 
kill,  or  only  punch.  Your  husband  stayed  around 
for  a  while  playing  *  The  Star  Spangled  Banner  ' 
on  his  flute  to  sort  of  help  things  out,  but  I  cried 
all  the  time  and  the  dogs  whined  so  that  he  hunted 
up  the  drum  with  the  cymbal  attachment  and  went 
away.  I  heard  a  woman  saying  '  good-by  J  or 
something  to  him  a  while  back  and  I  don't  believe 
he's  made  one  cent.  But  they'll  all  get  something 
to  do — I  don't  stand  much  chance  myself.  My 
snakes  aren't  due  to  wake  up  till  a  week  from  Tues 
day,  and  I  haven't  a  single  other  thing  but  the 
fuzzy  dogs  and  Fancy  Dancing."  Whereupon  the 
little  Snake  Lady  hid  her  face  in  two  thin  hands, 


28     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

unmindful  of  broken  seams  in  the  long,  black 
gloves,  and  began  to  cry  quietly  but  very  miserably 
to  herself. 

"  There,  there,  now,"  soothed  Mrs.  Ajax,  as  she 
drew  the  tangle  of  yellow  hair  against  her  bosom 
and  patted  the  pinched  face.  "  It  will  all  blow 
over  soon.  I  guess  all  these  Westerners  ain't  hard 
hearted.  Have  you  had  your  breakfast,  Petty?  " 

"  Belvawney  and  I  had  an  egg-ug-ug,"  sobbed 
Cobrita.  u  But  she  made  me  eat  her  ha-ha- 
half." 

Deep  in  thought  the  author  of  the  catastrophe 
sat  silent  in  his  buggy.  A  few  yards  away  a  half- 
dozen  battle-scarred  circus  wagons  stood  marooned 
in  a  vacant  field.  Long  usage  had  dulled  their 
once  effulgent  tints,  and  a  desert  sun  had  blistered 
their  vivid  panoramas  for  idle  hands  to  flick  away. 
Here  and  there,  in  indescribable  chaos,  lay  trunks 
with  forced  locks  and  broken  hinges,  boxes,  poles, 
stakes,  and  snarls  of  rope.  Nearby  a  depressing 
collection  of  mildewed  tents  strewed  a  half-acre  of 
ground,  as  if  dropped  from  some  itinerant  balloon. 
A  solitary,  dispirited  horse,  browsing  destructively 
among  the  scattered  chattels,  lifted  a  crestless  neck 
and  stared  gauntly  at  the  man  in  the  buggy.  The 
vociferous  appeal  of  its  ribs  made  his  heart  ache. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     29 

In  fact,  the  only  relieving  feature  in  the  whole  dis 
tressing  scene  was  a  small,  mouse-colored,  mud- 
encrusted  elephant,  chained  by  one  hind  foot  to  a 
stake.  The  elephant  had  been  swaying  itself  hyp 
notically  from  side  to  side  and  curling  and  uncurl 
ing  the  tip  of  its  trunk.  As  Holly  looked,  it,  too, 
succumbed  to  the  general  despondency,  for  pres 
ently  it  kneeled  down  with  several  loud  groans 
and  rolled  over  on  its  back. 

And  this,  in  its  entirety,  was  what  now  remained 
of  Pilkington's  Celebrated  Inter-Continental  and 
Trans-Oceanic  Hippodrome.  The  Galaxy  of  Glit 
tering  Gayeties — The  Concatenated  Bouquet  of 
Beautiful  Bewilderments — with  their  Stupendous, 
Startling,  and  Sight  Satiating  Singularities  had  re 
treated  to  the  last  ditch — had  fought  their  last 
fight — had  petered  out. 

In  vain  Holly  cast  about  for  brass-lunged  can- 
vasmen;  there  were  none.  Neither  were  there 
"drapers";  for  they  had  vanished  away.  Nor 
clowns,  nor  bandsmen.  Nor  cooks,  flunkeys,  nor 
teamsters.  Gone !  All  gone !  Gone  in  the  imper 
ceptible  flicker  of  an  eyelid  at  the  first  inkling  of 
the  pink  man's  retrogression !  Gone  in  one  mad, 
tearing  rush  for  Fame  and  Fortune!  For  Gold! 
And  Twenty  Mile! 


30     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

Bravely  confronting  the  two  women,  Holly  told 
the  story  of  the  gold  strike  with  soulful  gestures. 

"  But  don't  feel  mean  about  not  appreciating 
what  a  fine  joke  it  was  on  him"  he  added,  "  nor 
about  your  missing  your  calculations.  No  fellow 
could  expect  you  to  figure  beforehand  on  a  crazy 
gold  strike  and  a  real  absquandering  all  in  the 
same  day.  That  would  be  too  much  for  any  lady." 

Then  the  ranchman's  eyes  kindled  with  the  fire 
of  a  great  idea.  "  Ladies — and  friends,"  he  said. 
"  From  now  on,  please  consider  yourselves  in  my 
hands — perfectly  safe.  I'll  have  to  leave  you  for 
a  while  or  so,  but  I'll  be  back.  In  the  meantime, 
please  corral  all  the  Pilkington  mavericks  and  load 
your  trunks  on  two  of  the  wagons.  At  one  o'clock 
you  will  all  be  at  my  ranch  down  the  valley.  At 
one-thirty  you  will  eat!  " 

With  this  golden  promise  on  his  lips  Holly 
turned  away  and  descended  on  the  corrals  and 
barns  of  Moab  even  as  the  Assyrian  came  down  on 
the  fold.  Once,  when  he  looked  back,  he  saw 
Cobrita  dutifully  gathering  her  white  dogs  to 
gether  while,  in  the  distance,  Imogene  was  striding 
swiftly  towards  a  farmhouse  from  whose  purlieus 
issued  the  melting  notes  of  a  flute,  mingled  with 
some  insistent  remarks  in  a  woman's  voice.  Pres- 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     31 

ently,  with  a  curious  abruptness,  the  remarks 
ceased. 

The  human  selvage  of  Pilkington's  Inter-Con 
tinental  and  Trans-Oceanic  drifted  slowly  back 
from  its  quests  and  lent  itself  to  roping  trunks, 
though  not  without  a  few  cynical  doubts. 

"  Snakes  and  all,  Imogene?"  called  Cobrita, 
raising  a  flushed  face  from  the  depths  of  a  large 
green  box  with  ventilating  screens  set  in  its  sides. 
"  He  didn't  exactly  say,  you  know." 

"  Everything  goes,"  responded  the  grimly  reli 
ant  Strong  Woman.  "  /  know  these  big-hearted 
Westerners.  He'd  feel  all  broke  up  if  you  left  out 
just  one  little  yellow  rattler.  Take  a  tip  from 
Clarice — she's  got  her  tights  and  trapeze  done  up 
in  her  shawl-strap  right  now.  You  won't  catch 
that  young  lady  out  on  a  desert  without  means  of 
support.  And,  hnd-sakes!"  she  sighed.  u  No 
body  knows  just  what  will  turn  up.  All  /  know 
is  we're  going  somewheres  in  wagons,  and  at  one- 
thirty,  the  man  says " 

With  a  hollow  chant  the  circus  finished  the 
sentence. 

"  At  one-thirty — we  eat!  " 

Troubles  in  this  vale  of  tears,  however,  are 
oftener  transferred  than  entirely  destroyed,  as 


32     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

Holly  was  discovering  as  he  herded  his  four-footed 
finds  circus-wards.  "  The  puzzle  is,  how  to  make 
a  '  pair  '  out  of  a  work-horse  with  a  splint  and  a 
one-eyed  mule  and  still  preserve  your  equinemity," 
he  muttered,  in  huge  disgust.  "  I  guess  I'll  let  the 
Italians  steer  these  prizes  and  tow  the  elephant 
behind.  These  four  amusing  little  range  ponies 
can  go  in  the  '  six'  with  me."  And  although  the 
range  ponies  at  first  demurred  to  this  arrangement 
they  soon  found  themselves  harnessed  to  the  larger 
of  the  two  wagons,  whose  rear  wheels  were  pres 
ently  chained  to  a  tree. 

The  ranchman  removed  his  hat  and  mopped  his 
brow.  The  psychological  moment  had  arrived. 
Little  by  little  the  semicircle  of  trustful  Pilking- 
tons  was  drawing  nearer,  seeming  to  pivot  about 
the  stalwart  form  of  Mrs.  Ajax,  whose  strong  eyes 
rested  on  the  ranchman  with  a  certain  shrewd  re 
liance.  On  either  side  of  the  Strong  Woman  a 
clean-limbed,  well-made  man  stood  at  rest  in  the 
easy  pose  of  the  acrobat, — clear-eyed  and  quiet, 
but  thoroughly  alert.  Next  to  the  younger  Italian, 
with  her  big  hat  nodding  and  her  French  heels 
clicked  together  as  if  on  dress  parade,  Cobrita 
whispered  softly,  an  unwinking,  pink-nosed  dog 
under  each  arm. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     33 

Holly's  eye  ran  swiftly  along  the  line  and 
stopped  short.  "  Mister  Ajax,"  he  breathed,  with 
an  internal  convulsion. 

With  his  flute-case  clasped  tightly  to  his  breast, 
the  other  half  of  the  Ajax  family  was  standing  in 
trance-like  quiescence,  his  mild  and  colorless  eyes 
untroubled  by  either  the  strenuous  past  or  the  preg 
nant  future.  Beneath  the  gray  stubble  of  his  chin, 
the  end  of  a  celluloid  collar  swung,  joyously  un 
fettered,  while  his  thin,  straw-colored  hair, 
smoothed  slickly  down  on  one  side  of  his  head, 
rose  on  the  other  side  in  distressing  tufts.  Very 
much  undersized,  entirely  indeterminate  as  a  factor 
in  anything,  the  little  man  seemed  all  bones,  and 
angles,  and  shabby  clothes. 

"  One,  two,  three,  four,  five"  Holly  counted. 
"And  the  dark-eyed,  quiet  girl,  who's  been  watch 
ing  me,  must  be  Clarice." 

"  Friends,"  said  the  ranchman,  "  it's  all  my 
fault — /  did  it.  Heretofore  I've  bought  and  paid 
for  all  the  fun  I  wanted,  sometimes  by  the  running 
foot  but  mostly  by  the  quart,  and  the  first  attempt 
to  have  a  little  private  excitement  at  some  other 
man's  expense  has  turned  out  to  be  the  failure  I 
always  knew  it  would  be.  Now,  if  I  can  help  you 
out  by  asking  you  to  visit  me  down  at  my  ranch 


34     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

for  as  long  as  you  want  to  stay  it  will  be  the  least 
I  can  do."  He  paused  and  surveyed  the  group  with 
alternate  hope  and  fear. 

"  If  you'll  come  I'll  be  tickled  to  death.  What's 
the  vote?'' 

With  perfect  unanimity  the  circus  advanced, 
looked  him  fervently  in  the  eye,  and  gripped  his 
hand. 

Tis  a  fine  fellow  ye  are,"  Alberto  announced 
in  his  native  Italian.  "  If  ye've  a  few  horses  be 
low  there  I'll  be  earning  me  salt  as  sure  as  me 
name's  Michael  Scanlan." 

"  I'm  wid  youse,  Pal,"  breathed  Angelo.  "  I 
thought  to-day  it  'ud  be  '  back  to  the  shops '  fer 
Harry  Doogan." 

Holly  spared  them  a  pleased  moment.  "I'm 
awful  glad  you're  white,"  he  murmured.  "  There 
wasn't  a  single  foot  of  spaghetti  in  Moab.  And 
now  we're  all  ready  but  the  Chinaman !  " 

u  The  what?  "  shrieked  Imogene,  from  the  top 
of  the  wagon. 

"  The  cook,  ma'am,"  Holly  answered  uncer 
tainly.  "  At  least  he  claimed  he'd  been  a  cook, 
back  in  China." 

"  Don't  let  me  get  my  hands  on  any  Chinaman," 
snorted  Imogene.  "  I  didn't  come  out  here  on  a 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     35 

wild  desert  to  have  my  complexion  ruined. 
CLARICE  !  Have  you  got  your  bundle?  " 

"  Slip  the  chain  when  you're  mad,"  Holly  said 
to  the  younger  acrobat,  and  swung  himself  up  to 
his  seat  and  combed  out  his  reins. 

"WOW!"  yelled  Signer  Doogan  Blondelli, 
and  gained  the  tail-board  with  a  dexterous  leap. 
The  wagon,  suddenly  released,  shot  forward  with 
a  bound. 

Once  out  on  the  broad,  level  road  which  ran 
south  through  the  valley  from  Moab  the  ranch 
man's  attention  was  drawn  to  the  quiet,  dark-eyed 
girl  who  had  taken  a  seat  on  the  box  beside  him. 
He  had  been  somewhat  conscious  of  her  eyes  dur 
ing  the  rush  from  the  field  to  the  road,  although 
she  had  held  her  difficult  position  with  a  supple 
ness  of  body  both  unobtrusive  and  practical,  but 
now  that  he  could  turn  his  thoughts  to  other  things 
besides  the  range  ponies,  she  looked  away  and  all 
that  he  could  see  was  the  smooth  whiteness  of  her 
neck  under  a  mass  of  fresh,  brown  hair. 

His  first  impression  was  that  all  about  her  was 
redolent  with  cleanliness — even  the  forlorn,  faded 
dress  could  not  prevent  that — and  when  at  last  she 
turned  her  head,  the  sweet  fullness  of  her  dark 
eyes  startled  him.  She  seemed  neither  very  young 


36     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

nor  yet  thirty — a  little  thin,  a  little  worried,  but 
still  brave — with  cheeks  which  would  tinge  with 
red  and  lips  that  would  curve  again  into  a  smooth 
bow  when  life  was  kinder. 

Yet,  it  was  not  because  her  dress  was  worn  and 
shiny  that  the  ranchman  began  to  feel  sorry  for  her, 
but  because  he  saw  she  felt  ashamed.  As  his  eyes 
rose  from  the  patched  blue  skirt  and  carefully 
hidden  shoes  her  own  eyes  filled  under  the  mo 
mentary  scrutiny  and  her  chin  quivered. 

"  I  heard  about  you,"  Holly  said,  "  and  I  got 
you  another  so  you  wouldn't  feel  mean  while  you 
were  waiting  for  dinner." 

He  groped  in  his  pocket,  whence  came  a  won 
derful  odor  of  freshly-made  sandwiches,  and 
pressed  something  hard  and  white  into  her  hand. 

The  girl  examined  the  object  curiously.  And 
then,  with  a  glint  of  amusement  in  her  eyes,  she 
began,  daintily,  to  eat  the  egg. 


CHAPTER  III 

Ax  the  lower  end  of  Moab  Valley  a  ranch  lay 
drowsing  under  a  soft  pall  of  heat.  In  the  yellow- 
floored  corrals  some  motionless  horses  stared 
somnolently  through  the  bars — in  the  rich  mud  of 
the  irrigating  ditches  a  family  of  irritated  ducks 
complained  together  concerning  the  heated  term. 
A  fat  white  dog,  that  had  been  sleeping  on  the 
doorstep,  arose,  stretched  himself,  yawned  abys 
mally,  and  revolved  into  a  sleeping  position  again. 
Seated  in  a  chair,  back  tilted  against  the  cool,  stone 
wall  of  the  ranch-house,  a  solitary  white  man  dozed 
in  blissful  content,  his  hat-brim  resting  on  his 
nose.  And  it  came  to  pass  that  there  was  peace 
throughout  all  the  land  of  Moab. 

It  was  upon  this  pastoral  idyl  that  the  Inter- 
Continentalers,  followed  quickly  by  the  Trans- 
Oceanicers,  rudely  projected  themselves.  Entirely 
forgetting  their  upbringing  the  trained  dogs  leaped 
from  the  wagon  and  fell  upon  the  fatter  white  one 
in  an  untrained  uproar  of  sound — while  ducks  and 
chickens  flew  in  agitated  circles — while  range 

37 


38     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

ponies  danced  and  trunks  and  boxes  came  tumbling 
to  the  ground  in  alarming  confusion. 

The  man  on  the  porch  woke  up  with  a  start. 
Where,  but  a  short  moment  before,  the  dust  motes 
had  flickered  through  placid  solitude  he  now  beheld 
an  elderly  gentleman  with  a  craftily  innocent  face 
who  held  in  one  hand  a  sinister,  tube-like  weapon 
trimmed  with  silver.  With  the  other  hand  he  was 
striving  to  drag  an  animal  of  strange  proportions 
through  the  front  gate.  The  animal,  though 
plainly  unwilling,  was  being  progressed  by  some 
unseen  force  in  the  rear,  from  whence  also  came 
the  loud,  warning  cry,  "  Steer  him  more  Port, 
Altamont." 

"  Say,  YOU!"  shouted  the  foreman,  catapult 
ing  out  of  his  chair.  "  Nothing  like  that  allowed 
on  this  ranch.  Just  gallop  it  right  away."  Ap 
proaching  no  closer  than  his  first  rush  carried  him 
he  leveled  a  trembling  forefinger  at  the  center  of 
the  beast,  so  that  there  might  be  no  mistake. 
"  Take  it  right  away,"  he  shouted  fearfully. 
u  Only  tell  me  where  to  kick  it  and  I'll  do  it  my 
self." 

"  Don't  hurt  the  family  pets,  Drybone,"  said  a 
reassuring  voice  from  the  box-seat.  "  Can't  you 
see  we've  just  come  home  for  a  while?  " 


"  STEER    HIM    MORE    PORT,    ATTAMOXT  " 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     39 

With  a  dazed  expression  on  his  face  the  fore 
man  stepped  aside  and  stared  helplessly  at  the 
Blondellis  hurtling  by  him  with  boxes  and  baggage. 
Near  at  hand  Imogene  was  chaining  the  elephant 
to  a  convenient  tree.  Meanwhile,  she  shouted  di 
rections  to  her  husband,  who  was  endeavoring  to 
aid  Cobrita  with  a  large  green  box.  As  might 
have  been  expected,  the  box  presently  slid  from 
the  wagon  and  fell  heavily  upon  Mr.  Ajax. 

The  foreman  sprang  forward  with  a  cry  of 
alarm.  As  he  did  so  "The  Largest  Boa  Con 
strictor  in  Captivity  "  emerged  from  the  box  and 
slid  between  his  agitated  legs  like  a  stream  of  liv 
ing  oil. 

"  Easy  there,  Drybone,"  laughed  Holly,  and 
held  back  the  stick  which  seemed  to  leap  from  the 
ground  into  the  foreman's  hand.  "  Don't  mind 
the  snake.  He's  asleep!"  He  turned  to  his  new 
friends  with  a  gesture  of  introduction.  "  Mr. 
Drybone  Peters,  your  humble  servant,  who  never 
stole  anything  but  his  wages." 

The  circus  paused  and  bowed  formally  at  the 
dazed  Drybone,  while  Imogene  gripped  his  hand 
in  silent  good-will,  at  which  the  foreman's  grin 
bravely  continued. 

"These  all  are  friends  of  yours,  I  might  in- 


40     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

quire?"  he  murmured,  as  his  dog-like  brown  eyes 
yearned  affectionately  over  his  superior.  "  Y'u 
hasn't  been  hooked  up  by  the  Devil  Dodger,  has 
y'u,  Dick?" 

"  Don't  be  foolish,  partner,"  was  the  abrupt 
response,  as  Holly  led  the  way  into  the  house. 
;<  We've  been  together  'most  too  long,  now." 

"  I  didn't  know,"  Drybone  answered  vaguely, 
and  a  spare  hand  went  up  to  rumple  his  iron-gray 
hair  in  sad  perplexity.  "  That  two-tailed  critter 
without  any  face  might  be  a  trooso." 

The  ranchman  ushered  his  friends  into  the  new 
home  with  a  faint  twinkle  in  his  eye.  But  when 
they  drifted  back  to  him  from  their  explorations, 
puzzled  but  thoroughly  discreet,  he  sought  the 
Strong  Woman's  intelligent  eye  for  assistance. 

"  It's  an  old  Mormon  ranch-house.  Quite  a 
lot  of  women  lived  here  once.  It  wouldn't  be 
polite  to  say  just  how  many  men." 

'*  There  wasn't  many,  then,"  remarked  Imogene 
shrewdly.  "  Not  if  I  know  them." 

;c  We  had  to  muck  out  a  good  deal  after  I 
bought,"  the  ranchman  continued.  u  I  never  knew 
religion  could  pester  a  man  so — the  *  Zig-zags 
through  Zion  '  and  *  Little  Steps  for  Little  Feet ' 
must  have  been  six  inches  deep  on  the  floor,  till  we 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     41 

baptized  it  all  in  the  irrigating  ditch,  and  Dry- 
bone  improved  a  portrait  gallery  of  Brigham 
Youngs  with  the  coal-oil  can.  But  even  then  it  was 
pretty  mean  and  lonely  until  Drybone  papered  all 
this  front  parlor  with  the  Book  of  Mormon. 

'  First  Nephi '  begins  over  there  by  the  mantel 
piece.  It  gallops  around  pretty  hard  for  two  laps, 
and  peters  out  by  the  stuffed  snake  in  the  corner. 
After  that,  '  Second  Nephi '  takes  hold — and  re 
veals  and  educates  all  the  way  to  the  pink-and-green 
rocker.  Between  there  and  the  genuine  seashell 
on  the  what-not  it's  fairly  exciting,  but  the  south 
side  of  the  stope  is  rather  low-grade — laws,  mostly 
— and  fights  in  the  kitchen.  If  you  want  good  wars 
and  private  killings  you  have  to  lie  down  on  your 
back  by  the  base-board. 

"  Night  after  night  I  used  to  lie  awake  watch 
ing  Drybone  on  his  hands  and  knees  trailing  the 
Nephi  family  with  a  candle.  He  got  so  after  a 
while  that  he  even  knew  'em  all  by  name,  and  just 
who  Nephi's  best  friends  were,  and  how  they  sold 
him  the  watered  stock.  About  the  fourth  night  I 
felt  something  pawing  around  and  dropping  hot 
candle  grease  on  my  face.  So  I  woke  up  and  said: 

"'What's  the  excitement,  Drybone?  Didn't 
you  chew  your  cucumbers  ?  ' 


42     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

"  '  I'm  searchin'  for  page  forty-two,'  said  Dry- 
bone.  *  I  left  friend  Nephi  over  there  by  the  door- 
jamb  along  about  twelve-thirty  and  I  don't  mind 
tellin'  you  he  was  in  the  h — 1  of  a  fix!  I've  been 
around  to  the  stuffed  snake  twice  already  and  he 
hasn't  got  out  yet.  I'm  going  to  stay  with  him  a 
while/  he  said.  '  He  hasn't  got  too  many  friends.' 
About  four  in  the  morning  he  woke  me  up  and 
whispered  that  he'd  found  it.  Nephi  had  got  out 
of  jail  and  been  elected  Sheriff. 

"  And  so,"  said  Holly,  "  we've  got  about  every 
thing  here  that  it's  safe  for  two  old  desert  rats  to 
have — a  genuine  circulating  library,  and  a  tele 
phone  wire  to  Moab  and  a  new  bed  to  sleep  in 
every  night.  The  only  thing  we're  short  on  is 
help." 

The  ranchman  was  secretly  longing  for  the  de 
spised  Chinaman  left  behind  in  Moab.  When  he 
thought  of  his  own  cooking  he  hesitated.  When 
he  thought  of  Drybone's  he  turned  pale. 

Under  the  stress  of  his  perplexity  his  voice  faded 
away  and  he  looked  up  in  the  faint  hope  of  sym 
pathy,  perhaps  from  the  dark-eyed  girl  who  had  sat 
on  the  box-seat.  But  while  he  had  been  speaking 
the  circus  had  undergone  disintegration,  and  when 
he  came  to  look  about  him  the  passage  where  he 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     43 

stood  was  quite  empty.  Chancing  to  glance 
through  a  window  he  descried  Doogan  Blondelli 
moving  blithely  springwards  with  a  pail.  From 
the  woodpile  came  a  crackling  sound  which  denoted 
the  measured  activity  of  Mr.  Ajax.  Tiptoeing 
down  the  hall  he  came  upon  the  two  girls  making 
ready  a  dinner  table.  Presently  he  saw  the  Strong 
Woman  stride  across  the  kitchen  with  unerring 
scent  and  unearth  the  frying-pan  from  a  closet 
under  the  sink. 

"  I  hid  it  there  so's  I'd  know  just  where  it  was," 
gasped  Drybone  over  his  shoulder.  "  Ain't  it 
wonderful?  " 

If  the  Promised  Land  had  seemed  gaunt  and 
grim  to  those  dogged  souls  with  whom  Brigham 
Young  colonized  Nevada,  it  now  bore  all  the  more 
eloquent  witness  to  Drybone's  theory  that  the 
Mormons,  above  all  else,  were  husbandmen. 

For  unmeasured  aeons  it  had  lain  under  an  over 
burden  of  sun  and  drought,  its  hot  valleys  a  glit 
tering  menace  to  the  settler,  its  barren,  yellow  sinks 
snarling  up  at  him  with  the  perpetually  bared 
teeth  of  a  starving  animal.  But  now,  wherever 
water  could  be  made  to  run  and  ground  harrow, 
fortune  followed  in  some  measure  and  out  of  the 


44     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

arid  basins  emerald-floored  canyons  reached,  long- 
fingered,  into  the  hills  whence  came  their  help. 

Holly's  ranch-house  lay  in  one  of  these  cultivated 
necks,  resting  on  the  crest  where  the  mesa  swell 
broke  against  the  foothills  and  half  hidden  in  its 
trees.  A  cheerfully  gurgling  brook,  fresh  from  the 
cool  stones  and  mosses  of  the  canyon,  sauntered  in 
on  an  easy  lateral  at  one  side  through  rows  of  pop 
lar,  locust,  and  balm-of-gilead,  and  dimpled  past 
the  long,  two-storied  house,  to  disappear  eventually 
among  the  corrals,  where  cattle  nosed  in  it  by  day 
and  two-legged  animals  went  stealthily  by  night  to 
cool  their  feet.  In  front,  one  looked  down  a 
gentle  slope  into  a  velvety  basin  of  sage  and 
greasewood,  whose  undulations  faded,  with  hazy 
enchantment,  into  a  misty  gray,  soft  as  a  dove's 
wing.  And  then  up  would  go  the  eye,  high  over 
the  challenging,  blood-red  and  yellow  porphyry 
buttes  on  the  other  side  of  the  valley  to  where  the 
wine-purple  bulk  of  the  mountains  sent  up  a  snow- 
tipped  spear  to  pierce  the  blue.  And  over  it  all 
sang  the  afternoon  wind  of  the  West,  purring 
softly  over  the  golden-crested  rabbit-brush,  sway 
ing  the  purple  acreage  of  the  bee-flower  till  it 
spread  like  a  splendid  mantle  at  the  feet,  sweeping 
out  of  the  infinite  distance  with  immeasurable 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     45 

strength,  keen  and  dry  always  and  very  good  for 
the  soul. 

Dick  Holly,  returning  from  an  inspection  of  the 
ranch,  drew  a  rocking-chair  towards  him  and  sat 
down.  Out  of  his  gropings  for  expression  his 
heart  struck  the  simple  note  of  gratitude  that  he 
had  been  able  to  leave  the  cities  behind  him  and 
come  again  into  his  own.  The  only  thing  that 
prophesied  disturbance  of  this  tranquillity  was  the 
revelation  of  the  day  before. 

Some  one  was  concocting  serious  trouble  for  him 
and  the  glittering  treasures  of  the  Yellow  Dog 
across  the  desert  at  Bullionfield,  and  he  was  grow 
ing  restive  under  his  inability  to  fathom  their  plans. 
Buckner,  the  storekeeper,  had  owned  the  Yel 
low  Dog  and  had  sold  it  to  Holly — and  Dan  Drew, 
had  owned  the  Atlas  and  sold  it  to  Macklin,  or 
else  Macklin  had  shot  him  for  it,  that  much  was 
certain.  But  why  had  Buckner  formed  so  sudden 
a  friendship  with  Macklin?  And  why  had  Mack 
lin  just  begun  to  talk  about  an  "  apex  suit  "  to 
determine  his  rights  to  the  Yellow  Dog  vein? 
Furthermore,  and  more  important  to  Dick  Holly 
than  all  the  rest  of  the  mystery,  was  Flatwheel's 
story  of  the  tattoo  mark.  Could  it  possibly  be  that 
old  Joe  Macklin  was  the  teamster  of  long  ago? 


46     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

A  door  opened  quietly  and  the  Strong  Woman 
appeared.  She,  too,  seated  herself  and  began  an 
unobtrusive  rocking.  She  had  changed  her  close- 
fitting  jersey  for  a  soft,  white  waist  and  the  Gor- 
dian  knot  of  her  hair  had  been  combed  into  a 
looser,  pleasanter  form.  Her  general  atmosphere 
was  one  of  placid  motherliness,  which  was  borne 
out  when  she  finally  spoke. 

"  I  never  hoped  to  see  such  a  peaceful  place." 

The  ranchman  gave  her  a  grateful  look.  (  Yes, 
ma'am,  so  it  is — but  still  it  did  me  a  lot  of  good  to 
hear  that  racket  at  the  table  to-day.  I  lost  all  of 
ten  years  somewheres  between  the  soup  and  pie." 

"  Don't  talk  about  having  a  home  or  I'll  cry," 
the  woman  answered  soberly.  "  I  can  stand  a  lot, 
myself — I  was  raised  in  Kansas — but  you'll  never 
know  how  anxious  I  was  about  those  girls.  When 
G.  Edward  left  us  they  just  went  all  to  pieces. 
Of  course,  most  all  of  us  have  got  a  little  money 
set  away,  but  generally  it's  in  some  savings  bank. 
And  that's  what  made  me  run  so  down  the  road — 
I  thought  if  I  could  only  borry  a  little  of  that 
twenty-sixty-seven  we  might  be  able  to  worry  along 
somehow  till  things  got  straightened  out — or  we 
could  get  back  to  California  and  soak  the  elephant. 

"  About  Cobrita,  now,"  Imogene  continued  in 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     47 

a  lowered  voice,  as  she  hitched  her  rocker  closer 
along  the  porch.  "  Of  course,  you  know  she's 
going  to  be  married  to  Angelo.  This  was  to  be 
their  last  trip  because  Angelo's  got  a  good  job 
in  the  boiler  factory  back  to  Salt  Lake,  and  the 
little  girl  wants  to  have  a  home.  Alberto's  a 
quiet  fellow — most  likely  he'll  go  to  live  with 
them.  As  for  Altamont  and  me — I  guess  we  can 
always  go  along  on  '  small  time  '  for  a  living. 
It's  hard  for  him,  but  I  don't  mind  it  so  much. 
Only,  I  would  like  to  have  a  place  and  a  big,  wild 
lawn  like  this  one  in  front  of  my  house.  I  expect 
this  valley  must  be  five  miles  wide." 

"  Yes,  ma'am — and  ten  more,"  said  the  ranch 
man,  considering  in  passing  that  the  dark-eyed 
girl  had  not  been  mentioned. 

"  Clarice — Clarice  is  different"  continued  Imo- 
gene.  "  That's  about  the  only  way  I  can  say  it — 
you'll  see  for  yourself,  after  a  while.  Wherever 
she  gets  it  I  dunno — or  she,  either.  She  doesn't 
even  know  who  her  father  was.  You  wouldn't 
pick  her  out  for  one  of  the  best  trapeze  artists  in 
the  business,  would  you?" 
.  "Ma'am!" 

"Why,  yes — that's  her  act — didn't  you  know? 
And  I  must  say  I  never  saw  a  better — S-s-s-h. 


48     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

Here  she  comes  now.  I  guess  she's  had  a  good  old 
nap.  I  said  to  'em — 'Just  Y°u  children  go  and 
get  a  real,  long  sleep  and  dream  you're  in  Heaven 
with  Saint  Peter  wearing  spurs  and  a  six-shooter.'  " 

The  Strong  Woman  had  also  said  other  things 
— in  fact,  the  circus  people  had  severally  spoken 
their  minds  and  each  had  promptly  assumed  a 
daily  chore.  Even  at  that  very  moment  a  pall  of 
yellow  dust  hung  over  the  corral,  where  the 
Equestrian  Twins  were  trying  out  Holly's  horses, 
and  out  in  the  back  yard  Cobrita  was  taking  stock 
of  the  fowls.  Within,  the  Belyawney  had  been 
examining  the  carpets,  while  if  Altamont's  flute 
purled  melodiously  in  the  rear  it  was  only  prelimi 
nary  to  a  descent  on  the  wood-pile. 

"  And  what  do  you  think  of  it,  Clarice?  "  asked 
Imogene,  with  a  meaning  look  at  Holly. 

The  girl  leaned  lightly  against  a  pillar,  out 
lining  her  slim  grace  against  a  cloudless  infinity  of 
blue.  Although  she  was  in  repose  it  seemed  to  the 
ranchman  as  if  she  gave  out  a  strange  eagerness  for 
action — as  if  the  sweet,  dark  eyes  were  alight  with 
an  impulsive  reaching  out  for  new  appreciations. 
The  parted  lips,  the  pose  of  her  supple  body  and 
rounded  neck  seemed  to  reflect  a  thirst  for  knowl 
edge  as  beautiful  as  it  was  naive.  Her  face  was 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     49 

cool  and  fresh  after  her  sleep,  and  the  softly 
pulsing  blood  painted  two  bright  spots  on  her 
cheeks  as  she  answered  honestly : 

"  It  makes  me  want  to  live  forever." 

Mrs.  Ajax  looked  puzzled,  but  the  man's  eyes 
flashed  a  quick  appreciation. 

"  She  doesn't  like  the  circus  much,"  he  thought. 
"  She  wants  to  get  out  somewhere  and  live — where 
things  are  roomy." 

"  Do  you  think  you'll  ever  go  back?"  teased 
Imogene. 

The  girl  turned,  smiling,  and  with  a  supple 
movement,  took  the  ample  shoulders  into  her  em 
brace. 

"  I've  left  the  circus,  Old  Big-heart,"  she  mur 
mured,  her  cheek  pressed  tight  against  the  Strong 
Woman's.  "  I  left  it  two  whole  minutes  ago. 
Never  again  for  Mademoiselle  Belvawney,  some 
time  of  London,  Paris,  the  Winter  Circus — and 
Tidioute." 

"Going  to  leave  the  *  kinkers,'  honey?"  the 
elder  woman  asked  thoughtfully,  and  patted  the 
capable  young  hand  on  her  shoulder.  '  What  do 
you  think  you'll  do?  " 

The  girl  looked  bravely  but  a  trifle  pinkly  at 


50     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

the  quiet-eyed  ranchman.  "  I'm  going  to  be  Mr. 
Holly's  private  secretary,  if  I  may.  You  know 
I  used  to  help  Mr.  Pilkington  with  the  accounts — 
until  there  weren't  any  accounts  any  more.  I've 
just  been  thinking  that  if  Mr.  Holly  has  a  gold 
mine,  someone  ought  to  keep  track  of  the  gold  as 
it  comes  out — and  write  letters  saying  it  was  posi 
tively  not  for  sale — and  keep  count  of  the  steers 
and  calves — and  order  shoes  for  the  horses 
and  things  for  the  pigs  to  eat — and — and — 
everything!  Why,  I  think  there's  lots  to  do  on 
a  farm !  " 

"  So  there  is,  child,"  smiled  the  Strong  Woman, 
making  room  on  the  other  arm  of  her  chair  for  the 
doll-like  Cobrita,  who  had  appeared  with  Doogan 
Blondelli  in  tow.  "  Think  you'll  ever  go  back, 
Little  Rattler?" 

"  Not  under  the  big  top,  she  won't,  you  bet," 
announced  the  Blondelli  quickly.  "  We're  going 
into  the  chicken  business — we've  been  figuring  it 
all  out  on  a  barrel-top  out  in  the  yard.  We  started 
with  a  rooster  and  six  hens  apiece  and  she  got 
nearly  a  million  chickens  in  five  years  on  her  side 
of  the  barrel,  and,  somehow,  I  got  more  than 
twice  as  many  on  mine.  But,  anyhow,  at  ten 
cents  a  pound — at  ten  cents "  Doogan's 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     51 

voice  faded  away  as  his  mind  grappled  with  the 
stupefying  sum. 

"  At  ten  cents  a  pound,"  the  Snake  Lady  stated 
stoutly,  "  we  can  make  more  than  two  hundred 
thousand  dollars !  Isn't  it  lovely,  Imogene  ?  " 

"  Chickens  are  good,"  a  voice  conceded  from 
the  porch  corner  where  the  silent  Mike  had  seated 
himself,  "  but  them  pigs,  now !  Why  haven't  I 
niver  thought  of  pigs — and  me  an  Irishman !  All 
ye  have  to  do  is  to  fence  up  your  alfalfa  fields  in 
two  long  lines  of  squares — with  gates  between. 
Ye  thin  drive,  or  indooce,  these  here  little  pigs  into 
Field  Number  Wan.  Listen  to  me — IVe  it  all 
figured  out.  After  eating  thimselves  simply  crazy 
in  Field  Number  Wan  ye  persoo  thim  into 
Field  Number  Two.  Whereupon  the  alfalfa  im- 
mejutly  grows  up  behind  thim  again!" 

A  thin  voice  nearby  raised  itself  in  protest. 

"  But  that  is  nothing  more  or  less  than  willful 
deception  of  the  pigs !  " 

"  Be  quiet,  Altamont,"  said  Imogene  not  un 
kindly.  "  Please  get  your  flute  out  for  us,  there's 
a  good  boy." 

"  Now,  the  last  field — say,  Field  Number  Ten," 
continued  the  authority  on  pork,  "  should  be  con 
veniently  locayted  be  the  railroad  track,  where, 


52     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

after  the  pig  is  no  longer  able  to  walk,  he  can  be 
pushed  or  rolled  into  a  car " 

But  the  little  gray  man,  curled  up  against  the 
steps,  had  raised  his  flute  to  his  lips,  and  with  the 
first  wailing  notes  came  silence. 

The  sun-glow  faded  across  the  valley — the  haze 
in  the  hills  turned  from  violet  to  darkness.  Un 
consciously  the  women's  arms  crept  round  each 
other — the  men's  pipes  went  out.  Long  ago  the 
shabby  little  figure  had  passed  out  of  their  ken  and 
he  had  become,  instead,  only  a  kindly  natured 
chum  who  was  giving  them  lavishly  out  of  his 
only  possession — a  gift  that  cured  and  rested, 
flushing  their  minds  clear  with  a  sweet  wave  of 
sound.  And  while  they  stared  out  into  the  gath 
ering  darkness,  out  of  the  twilight  of  the  little 
man's  memory  his  own  dear  shapes  came  flocking 
round  to  aid  him,  their  soft  eyes  peering  through 
the  dulled  windows  of  his  mind,  their  tiny  hands 
tugging  at  the  puzzling  door. 

There  was  a  faint  movement  among  the  women, 
and  Imogene  motioned  to  Clarice,  who  stole  across 
the  porch  and  brought  back  the  little  man's  felt 
hat  which  lay  beside  him.  "  He  tries  to  pass  it 
round,"  Imogene  whispered.  "  I  can't  break  him 
of  it." 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     53 

Presently,  the  little  man's  notes  ceased  and  he 
groped  mechanically  on  his  head  for  his  hat.  Not 
finding  it,  he  sighed  softly  and  dismembered  the 
flute. 

Imogene  now  rose  and  murmured  a  hint  for 
the  two  girls  to  help  her  in  the  kitchen.  But  one 
of  the  two,  looking  back,  saw  a  tall,  ruddy-faced 
man  who,  with  his  arm  around  the  little  man's 
shoulders,  was  gently  thrusting  something  into  a 
vest-pocket. 


CHAPTER  IV 

IN  the  light  of  early  morning  down  where  the 
dazzling  sunshine  fell  through  the  cottonwoods 
in  yellow  splotches  on  the  corral,  Mr.  Drybone 
Peters  was  soliloquizing.  With  his  feet  far  apart 
— the  new  Stetson  that  Holly  had  brought  him 
on  the  back  of  his  head — and  a  spear  of  hay  re 
volving  thoughtfully  in  his  mouth,  the  fascinated 
foreman  was  studying  the  actions  of  the  strange 
beast  lately  put  in  his  care  and  insulting  it  flagrantly 
under  his  breath. 

"But  where  does  he  put  it?"  Drybone  mut 
tered  angrily,  as  the  elephant  swayed  to  and  fro 
and  stuffed  itself  with  hay.  "  Six  hundredweight 
of  good  alfalfa  gone  this  week — and  here  it's  only 
Wednesday!  Where  do  /  come  in,  please  tu  en 
quire?  Why,  I  ain't  even  drawing  cyards  in  this 
fiesta!  " 

At  the  sound  of  footsteps,  Drybone  hastily 
turned  around  with  a  rather  conscious  look  on  his 
seamed,  bronzed  face.  As  he  did  so,  the  animal 
silently  insinuated  its  trunk  through  the  fence. 

54 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     55 

Hovering  above  the  foreman's  head  for  a  calcu- 
lative  moment,  it  suddenly  dropped  down  and 
snatched  away — the  new  hat! 

With  a  hoarse  cry  of  rage,  the  foreman  whirled 
about  and  pawed  the  bars.  Scaling  the  fence  with 
frantic  agility  he  reached  the  top  just  in  time  to  see 
a  frightful  spectacle.  The  new  hat  was  following 
the  hay! 

In  vain  Drybone  lifted  his  bony  arms  aloft  and 
called  upon  the  gods  for  vengeance.  The  ele 
phant  only  meditated  on  the  strange  diets  of  for 
eign  lands — and  blinked  a  cynical  eye.  Presently, 
in  the  midst  of  the  foreman's  plaintive  hayings, 
the  hat  was  reproduced  and  thrown  disgustedly 
over  the  fence. 

"  Well,  dog  his  cats !  "  howled  the  foreman, 
clambering  down  to  confront  Cobrita  and  an 
apronful  of  eggs;  "  the  rubber-nosed  robber!  " 

"  That's  all  right,  Mister  Drybone,"  laughed 
Cobrita.  "  He's  a  rogue  elephant — and  they  just 
love  to  steal.  Isn't  it  a  good  thing  he's  a  dwarf?  " 

"  Ma'am !  "  gasped  Drybone,  following  her  into 
the  house  with  the  hat  clutched  to  his  breast. 
"Him  only  a  sample  copy?  Oh,  well!  Just  as 
you  say,  my  dear.  But  even  that  don't  make  it 
legal  for  an  animal  tu  laugh  at  y'u,"  the  foreman 


5 6     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

mumbled  doggedly.  u  He  wunk  his  little  old  red 
eye  at  me — I  see  him  do  it." 

Close  on  their  footsteps  the  two  acrobats  came, 
quite  ready  for  breakfast  and  full  of  ideas  for  a 
new  hay-baler  that  the  owner  of  the  ranch  must 
buy.  Instantly  Cobrita  caught  the  contagion  and 
began  to  plan  extensive  quarters  for  her  menagerie. 
While,  as  for  the  Chef  and  the  Private  Secretary, 
they  seemed  to  dust,  scrub,  and  estimate  by  both 
day  and  night.  To  the  faintly  resentful  Drybone, 
the  ranchman's  fortune  seemed  already  in  danger. 

"  Have  you  given  any  thought  to  the  library 
yet,  Imogene — the  carpet,  you  know?  Don't  you 
think  a  good,  flowered  ingrain  would  do?  " 

'With  furniture  to  match?  But  what  about 
curtains,  Dearie?  " 

"  And  stand-lamps?" 

"  And  a  book  on  pigs,"  supplied  the  ruminative 
Mike. 

"  Two  horse-clippers  and  a  de-horner,"  said 
Doogan,  with  a  business-like  air. 

"  Three  packages  of  Magic  Dog  Cakes,  please," 
Cobrita  added.  "  Bosco,  the  fat  white  one,  is 
sick." 

"  Well,"  remarked  Imogene,  summarizing  the 
situation  abruptly,  "  if  to-day's  Wednesday,  it's 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     57 

Montgomery  Ward  Day,  anyhow.  Hustle  up 
and  eat,  everybody,  and  we'll  take  all  morning  fill 
ing  out  the  blanks.  You  help  me  with  my  num 
bers,  Clarice.  The  last  time  we  ordered  I  wrote 
*  Catalogue  Number  2537  '  instead  of  2357  for 
a  one-ninety-eight  pongee  waist  with  blue  dots, 
and  they  sent  me  back  thirty-seven  cents  and  a 
picture  of  Blind  Tom." 

"  Y'u  kin  order  fer  me,  too,"  muttered  the  dis 
mayed  foreman.  "  I'm  just  all  broke  up  fer  a  com 
bination  brass  bed  and  music-box.  Ain't  y'u  going 
tu  come  along  with  us,  Altamont?"  he  cackled. 
"  Better  take  something.  Have  a  cigar." 

The  little  man  meditated  and  rolled  his  eyes 
heavenwards.  "  I  have  always  wished  for  a  baby 
grand  piano,"  he  said  mildly,  "  but  in  considera 
tion  of  the  perpetually  existent  exigencies  con 
sequent  upon  nomadic  peregrinations " 

"  Don't  say  another  word,"  Holly  interrupted 
swiftly.  "  We'll  order  it  to-day." 

A  half-hour  later  the  one-time  owner  of  a 
ranch  property  in  the  Moab  Valley  paused  at  the 
window  of  what  he  had  heard  was  now  his  "  of 
fice  "  and  peered  uncertainly  within. 

A  young  woman  in  a  white  shirtwaist  and  snowy 
paper  cuffs  was  busying  herself  with  some  piles  of 


58     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

letters  laid  out  on  a  table — the  very  cleanest  table 
the  ranchman  had  ever  seen.  The  woodwork  had 
recently  been  scrubbed  and  the  top  covered  with 
smooth,  white  oil-cloth,  while  in  the  center  of  the 
oil-cloth  were  pens,  pencils,  and  some  blotters 
tied  with  a  blue  bow.  A  bowl  of  wild  flowers  also 
stood  on  the  table,  and  whenever  the  young  woman 
could  not  decipher  the  particular  letter  in  hand 
she  only  laid  it  on  a  particular  pile  and  smelled  the 
flowers  and  smiled  and  took  up  her  task  again. 
With  the  letters  apparently  sorted  out  according  to 
some  system,  she  was  seen  to  sharpen  a  pencil  and 
make  notations  in  a  book,  after  which  she  con 
sidered  a  bill  of  groceries  and  frowned  blackly 
at  the  total.  Then  she  called  kitchenwards,  and 
in  prompt  response  the  bulk  of  the  Strong  Woman 
filled  the  doorway,  the  cold  glint  of  the  housewife 
in  her  eye. 

"  Imogene — did  we  get  any  *  Grandma's  Special 
Selected  String  Beans'  in  that  last  shipment?" 

"  Not  a  darned  Grandma,"  responded  Imogene 
accurately.  "Are  they  claiming  shipment?  Don't 
you  let  those  robbers  soak  us,  Lovey  Dove.  Alta- 
mont  says  there  wasn't  anything  which  might  be 
considered  to  even  approximate  a  bean." 

"And  the  ham  was  bad?" 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     59 

"  The  ham  was  'very  bad.  Is  that  all,  Dearie? 
I'm  baking,  you  know.  Don't  forget  to  knock  off 
the  freight  on  the  ham,  will  you,  Sweetheart?" 
and  Imogene  slowly  retreated. 

"  I  won't.  (It  comes  to  eight  cents — and  the 
beans  to  three-eighty-four),"  she  whispered  to 
herself,  with  red  lips  pouted.  "  (That  makes 
three-ninety-two  less,  with  the  cost  of  the  ham 
yet  to  come  off.)  All  right,  Imogene.  Thank 
you  very  much." 

The  unseen  auditor  withdrew  from  his  eaves 
dropping.  With  such  a  Cerberus  at  the  Gate  there 
would  be  no  occasion  to  quibble  over  that  cost-of- 
living  which  the  outside  world  was  worrying 
about,  and  perhaps  talent  such  as  this  could  be 
utilized  in  still  another  way. 

"  I'd  be  obliged  to  you  if  you'd  sort  of  run 
your  eye  over  this  little  list  of  mine,"  a  voice  said. 

The  ranchman,  hat  in  hand,  was  standing  beside 
the  table  with  the  flowers  on  it.  He  paused  after 
speaking,  for  awkwardness  had  come  over  him 
under  the  secretary's  quiet  eyes.  In  one  of  those 
minute  fractions  of  time  allowed  us  for  our  most 
illuminating  thoughts,  he  had  become  aware  that 
this  young  lady  was  thoroughly  in  earnest  in  what 
she  was  doing.  Inspirited  by  the  new  surround- 


60     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

ings,  Miss  Clarice  Belvawney  had  taken  a  very 
business-like  grip  on  life  again,  and  the  seriously 
impersonal  light  in  her  wide  eyes  stated  quietly 
that  she  would  hold  it. 

And  yet,  with  another  rare  flash  of  intuition, 
the  ranchman  knew  he  had  never  been  so  close  to 
all  that  was  lovably  feminine.  The  delicate 
aroma  of  wholesome  womanhood,  mingled  with 
the  scent  of  flowers,  stole  upon  his  helpless  senses. 
He  felt  himself  staring  at  the  shining  waves  in  her 
hair,  his  mind  temporarily  palsied  by  this  near 
ness  to  something  at  once  delightful  and  terrifying. 
Before  the  daintiness  of  her  person,  he  felt  hulking 
and  red-handed  in  his  khaki  and  high  boots. 

"  It's  the  pay-roll  from  those  little  gold  mines 
over  at  Bullionfield,"  he  managed  to  continue. 
"  After  you  sort  of  skim  through  and  fix  up  the 
spelling,  I'll  get  the  money  for  the  envelopes." 

Now,  at  the  time  the  sheet  had  been  contrived  in 
the  privacy  of  his  own  room  it  had  seemed  a 
veritable  work  of  art,  but  as  it  came  forth  from 
his  pocket  it  seemed  to  undergo  a  startling  change. 
Under  his  own  eyes,  the  paper  took  on  a  depressing 
coat  of  smudge.  Instead  of  Spencerian  fluences, 
its  writing  became  a  network  of  uncouth  scrawls, 
while  with  crooked  rulings  and  eye-searing  mis- 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     61 

takes  in  every  column,  it  was  now  only  an  ugly, 
dreadful  thing  that  any  schoolboy  would  have 
scorned.  As  he  saw  the  deft  fingers  draw  a  line 
through  each  damning  error,  his  face  slowly  red 
dened. 

"  It's  funny  how  those  numbers  move  around 
so — I  thought  I  had  'em  bedded  down  for  the 
night,"  he  said,  with  unsure  humor,  at  which  no 
one  laughed  and  he  grew  sadly  confused.  With 
every  investigation  some  new  error  seemed  to  be 
uncovered,  and  soon  there  was  the  peculiar 
discovery  that  one — "  Pink-eye  Reilly  " — had 
earned  the  extravagant  total  of  thirty  dollars  in 
a  single  day's  work. 

As  the  cool,  questioning  eyes  rose  to  his,  the 
ranchman's  brain  contracted  into  a  hard  knot  and 
its  functions  appeared  to  cease.  He  tugged  at  his 
mustache,  sighed  heavily,  and  finally  tried  to 
smudge  out  the  sum  with  his  finger. 

"  It  must  be  '  three '  dollars,"  he  muttered 
desperately.  "  Those  little  '  o's '  bother  me. 
Pink-eye  couldn't  make  *  wages  '  falling  down  a 
perpendicular  shaft  at  twenty  dollars  a  foot." 

Under  the  stress  of  his  feelings  the  secretary 
also  grew  uncomfortable  and  employed  her  hands 
with  a  vagrant  sheet  of  paper. 


62     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

;'  That's  it,"  the  ranchman  said  instantly. 
"  Make  a  new  one.  Make  it  out  your  way — the 
right  way.  And,  here !  Take  this !  I  don't  feel 
right  safe  with  the  thing  in  my  possession." 
Plucking  a  check-book  out  of  his  coat  he  laid  it 
on  the  table  before  her  and  covered  it  with  a 
powerful,  brown  hand.  "  You  can  be  watch 
dog,"  he  said,  thoroughly  angry  with  himself  and 
temporarily  unafraid  of  the  eyes  and  hair  and 
smooth,  white  throat.  "  When  any  of  this  outfit, 
including  this  busted  out  old  miner,  wants  any 
money  after  this, — they  come  to  you!" 

"  But  I'm  not  a  bookkeeper,  Mr.  Holly,"  pro 
tested  the  embarrassed  Miss  Belvawney.  "  I'm 
only  quick  at  figures.  And,  as  for  writing  your 
checks  for  you — why,  you  don't  know  anything 
about  me.  You  don't  even  know  who  I  am." 

"  When  I  brought  you  all  down  here  you  didn't 
ask  who  /  was,"  he  said  swiftly. 

A  slow  tide  of  pink  stained  the  girl's  face. 

"  We  were  hungry,"  she  said. 

"  So  am  I  hungry,"  he  answered  soberly.  "  I 
guess  I've  been  that  way  for  quite  a  while.  And 
now  that  the  table's  ready  don't  tell  a  fellow  he 
can't  sit  down.  This  old  desert  does  queer  things 
to  a  man  if  he  stays  with  it  too  long.  Sometimes 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     63 

it  gives  but  mostly  it  takes — and  only  in  big 
figures.  It  took  all  of  me  for  thirty  years  and  then 
was  kind-hearted  and  gave  me  back  more  than 
my  share.  If  it  wasn't  for  that  I'd  be  a  gray  old 
desert  rat  like  Drybone — who's  lost  his  appetite. 
Drybone  isn't  hungry  any  more.  Perhaps  he  used 
to  be,  but  now  he'll  go  out  and  sit  all  day  on  a 
hill  and  stare  at  the  dry  lakes  and  the  shiny  hot 
rocks  and  sand  and  lizards  and  brush,  and  away 
off  at  the  old  blue  mountains  jiggling  up  and  down 
in  the  heat.  It's  a  kind  of  opium  pill  for  Drybone 
— he  says  it  makes  him  forget.  Drybone  used  to 
have  a  family  back  East  somewhere  to  think  about, 
I  reckon,  but  now  he  don't  care  any  more.  He'd 
just  as  lieve  sit  still  and  see  things  go  by.  The 
desert's  got  him,  you  see.  His  mind's  so  used  to 
resting  on  it  that  it  isn't  a  good  fighting  mind  any 
more.  It's  full  of  big,  flat  places  where  the 
water's  too  scarce  for  thoughts  to  grow.  Take  old 
Drybone  off  the  desert?  You  couldn't!  He'd 
die  on  your  hands.  And  that's  why  I  was  hoping 
you'd  help  me  out  a  little  while  I  was  trying  to 
humanize  myself  again.  I  expect  I'll  lose  my  ap 
petite,  like  Drybone,  pretty  soon  but,  in  the  mean 
time,  I  might  be  considered  fairly  hungry." 

"  He's  lonely,"  the  girl  thought,  when  he  had 


64     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

gone.  "  He  wants  someone  to  talk  to  besides  the 
men.  But  what  can  he  see  in  poor  me?  I  don't 
know  a  mine  from  a  well.  But  I'd  just  as  lieve. 
Anything  to  get  away  from  canvas.  I  saw  a  mine 
in  the  hill  behind  the  house  the  other  day.  I  guess 
I  can  learn." 

"  He  talks  as  if  he  were  an  old,  old  man,"  Miss 
Belvawney  said  hotly  to  herself.  "  He  isn't  a 
single  day  over  forty.  I'm  going  to  ask  Imogene." 

"  I  know  all  about  that  mine,"  the  Strong 
Woman  stated  confidently,  when  the  girl  had  asked 
one  of  her  questions  but,  for  some  feminine  rea 
son,  had  retained  the  other.  "  I  sent  Altamont  up 
there  last  week  with  a  candle  to  explore,  and  he 
said  that  as  closely  as  he  could  ascertain  it  was 
merely  a  dank  labyrinth  containing  a  mountain  rat! 
So  I  ran  right  up  there  and  killed  the  rat  and 
found  all  those  spoons  we've  been  missing  and  my 
gold  thimble  and  the  new  egg-beater  that  went 
away  Tuesday.  You  know,  I'd  figured  all  along 
on  a  trade-rat  as  soon  as  I  found  those  little  stones 
in  the  spoon-box.  Then  I  did  some  mining  with 
the  handle  of  the  egg-beater,  and  say!  Clarice! 
I  think  that  mine's  just  full  of  gold!  I  showed 
some  of  the  rocks  to  Drybone,  and  he  claimed 
they  would  go  two  thousand  pounds  to  the  ton. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     65 

And  he  said  he'd  go  up  there  with  me  to-day  and 
show  me  just  how  they  blast  it  out.  He  says  Mr. 
Holly  doesn't  like  it  as  well  as  the  Yellow  Dog, 
and  if  that's  the  case  and  he  don't  want  it  I'm  go 
ing  to  ask  if  /  can  have  it.  I'll  just  bet  /  could 
drill  holes  in  rocks  ! 

"  Why — just  think  of  the  money  there  is  in 
mines!  "  and  Imogene  spun  around  from  her  stove 
to  where  the  fluffy-haired,  blue-eyed  Cobrita  and 
the  strangely  pensive  Belvawney  sat  side  by  side 
on  the  kitchen-table.  "  Didn't  Mr.  Holly  get  a 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars  for  only  part 
of  the  Yellow  Dog?  And  don't  the  men  say 
that  when  it's  all  opened  up  they  can  dig  out  a 
terribul  lot?  And  all  done  in  a  single  year,  mind 
you !  Oh,  there's  no  use  talking.  It's  mines  for 
me  every  clip,  girls.  Just  you  wait!  Harry's 
chicken  farm  and  Mike  and  his  wonderful  pig 
maze  won't  be  in  it  when  I  strike  it  rich ! 

"  And  here's  another  thing,"  and  Imogene's 
voice  lowered  confidentially  before  her  round-eyed 
auditors.  "  I've  been  watching  that  quotation 
sheet  in  the  office  every  day  for  a  week  and  the 
way  those  Goldfield  mines  are  booming  up  is  some- 
pin  frightful.  *  Blue  Pig  '  was  eight  cents  Satur 
day,  nine  on  Monday,  and  eleven  on  Tuesday, 


66     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

and  more  than  a  thousand  shares  sold.  '  Little 
Annie  '  is  way  up  in  the  clouds  around  six  bits — 
and  Mohawk!  WELL!  You  know  how  we  lost 
Annabelle,  the  Andalusian  Albino,  that  time  at 
Winnemucca.  She  was  just  putting  on  her  red, 
clocked  stockings  and  her  gold  boots  for  the  after 
noon  act  when  she  heard  the  Wild  Man  from  Java 
reading  out  of  the  newspaper  how  Mohawk  had 
gone  to  nineteen  dollars. 

"  '  I  hope  I've  got  it  right'  she  says  to  me,  all 
in  a  shiver  and  crying  like  a  baby.  '  My  trunk's 
just  cram  jam  full  of  Mohawk  stock  I  bought  for 
nineteen  cents!  A  traveling  man  told  me  all  about 
it  once  while  we  were  going  down  in  an  elevator. 
I'm  going  back  to  the  Station  and  go  right  straight 
home  to  my  mother  in  Kansas  City,'  she  says, 
'  Just  as  soon  as  I  get  done  crying.' 

"  l  But  what  are  you  crying  now  for,  Dearie? ' 
says  I. 

"  And  she  says,  l  Well — you'd  cry,  too,  if  you'd 
used  more  than  a  thousand  dollars  worth  of  it  for 
mean — old — curlpapers!  ' '' 

But  Holly,  in  the  meantime,  had  sought  no  com 
pany.  As  he  walked  away  from  the  house  and 
past  the  corral  he  even  failed  to  notice  the  uncon 
scious  Drybone,  planning  revenge  under  the  eye 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     67 

of  the  enemy.  The  ranchman's  long  strides  took 
him  away  from  the  scene  of  his  discomfiture  and 
led  him  down  an  avenue  of  humming  hives  to 
where  a  fence  separated  the  long-aisled  orchard 
from  a  quiet  meadow.  Here  he  hoisted  himself 
to  the  top  rail  and  gave  himself  up  to  thought,  his 
feet  crooked  in  the  fence,  his  hat  tilted  over  his 
eyes. 

He  was  wondering  if  there  were  very  many 
women  in  the  big  outside  world  like  the  sweet- 
eyed  young  girl  he  had  just  left.  The  Strong 
Woman  had  been  entirely  right — Clarice  was  dif 
ferent — although  the  dismaying  speed  with  which 
the  unknown  had  come  to  be  the  single  desirable 
woman  in  the  whole  universe  for  Dick  Holly  of 
Moab  Desert  hadn't  left  overmuch  time  for 
analysis.  Only  a  week  before  he  had  been  on  the 
point  of  actually  regretting  his  success,  for  it  had 
seemed  only  a  peak  from  which  he  stared  out  on 
the  flat  lands  of  "  Nothing-to-do,"  but  to-day,  he 
saw,  there  were  other  peaks  to  climb.  A  full, 
strong  wind  from  the  outer  world  had  blown  away 
the  mists  and  shown  him  new  heights  and  a  trail 
through  an  unsuspected  valley. 

And  so  he  climbed  dizzily  down  from  the  fence 
and  somnambulated  through  the  orchard,  dreaming 


68     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

mad  dreams  as  he  went.  For,  who  shall  say  that 
the  fires  of  middle-age  burn  less  brightly  than  those 
of  headstrong  twenty?  With  Recollection  to  re 
ject  the  clinkers  and  Good  Judgment  to  do  the 
stoking,  one  may  yet  get  a  fair,  steady  blaze  that 
needs  no  noisy  safety-valve. 

But  as  the  ranchman  passed  through  the  trees 
and  neared  the  Garden  of  Eden,  the  Evil  One  ap 
peared  to  him — in  the  form  of  an  irrigating  ditch. 
Years  ago,  he  remembered,  he  had  always  jumped 
that  particular  ditch,  generally  without  an  effort. 
To-day,  however,  it  was  much  too  wide,  and  as  he 
stared  at  it  with  a  heavy  frown  on  his  face,  it 
seemed  to  grow  still  wider.  He  stared  at  it  silently 
for  a  moment  longer,  then  shook  his  head  with 
something  that  sounded  like  a  groan  and  turned 
away.  He  was  too  old. 

Over  on  the  ranch-house  porch  a  white  waist 
was  gleaming,  but  the  man,  staring  at  a  little  tun 
nel  in  the  hillside  behind  the  corral,  kept  his  eyes 
turned  away.  u  I'll  take  another  look  at  that 
Morning  Glory  vein,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  But 
I  guess  it's  like  me — petered  out." 

A  careful  examination  of  the  ill-fated  Morning 
Glory  only  went  too  far  to  confirm  that  suspicion, 
and  as  he  came  out  to  daylight  again  and  ran  his 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     69 

eye  over  the  admirable  width  of  outcrop  it  was  with 
a  feeling  of  genuine  regret.  It  all  looked  very 
good — on  the  surface — but  from  what  the  tunnel 
showed  he  knew  the  vein  would  have  to  go  only  a 
foot  or  two  lower  to  fade  out  entirely. 

"  I  wonder  if  they're  familiar  with  '  gash  veins  ' 
at  the  'club'?"  he  meditated.  "  All  but  that 
dump  ore  wouldn't  buy  a  Willie  boy  his  cigarettes. 
But  it  would  be  fairer  to  keep  it  in  the  family  for 
a  beer  cellar,"  and  pondering  this  idea,  he  zig 
zagged  down  the  trail  to  the  house.  Here  he 
found  Imogene,  standing  open-mouthed  before  the 
daily  list  of  quotations. 

"  Little  Annie  a  dollar!  "  she  was  soliloquizing 
in  an  awe-struck  whisper.  "  My!  my!  That's  en 
tirely  too  dear,  now.  Perhaps  '  Red  Ants '  at 
seven  cents  would  be  better  for  me  to  buy — or  even 
this  new  one — *  Coconoco  Coalition — that's  only 
three! "  Then,  as  she  saw  the  ranchman — 
"  Don't  you  think  Coconoco  Coalition  sounds 
good?" 

"  Stocks  with  shorter  names  are  better,"  that 
individual  answered.  "  They  say  that  women's 
names  are  best  of  all." 

"  Can  a  woman  find  a  mine?  "  asked  Imogene, 
whirling  swiftly  about. 


70     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

"  Only  the  ugly  ones  ever  have  any  luck,"  was 
the  answer.  '*  The  really  good  claims,  you  see, 
are  all  located  by  old  prospectors  who've  been  ro 
mancing  around  all  their  lives  on  beans  and  sow 
bosom.  Generally  some  girl's  at  the  bottom  of  it 
all,  so  when  they  find  the  ledge  they  sweeten  it  up 
with  her  name,  like  '  Little  Annie  ' — or  '  Alice 
J.' — or  *  Isabel.'  And  it's  always  a  splendid  mine 
and  makes  just  loads  of  money." 

"  And  then  they  go  right  home  and  marry  little 
Annie,  don't  they?"  asked  Imogene  artlessly,  for 
the  Lifter  of  Great  Weights  was  nothing  if  not 
a  match-maker. 

"  Y-e-e-s,"  Holly  admitted  wearily.  "Or  loaf 
around  on  the  desert  a  few  more  years  so  that  little 
Annie's  oldest  boy  can  have  a  job." 

Failing  to  detect  the  irony  of  the  last  remark, 
Imogene  only  regarded  the  miner-ranchman  with 
awakening  surprise. 

"  But  you  called  your  mine  '  The  Yellow 
Dog,'  "  she  objected  pointedly. 

"  So  I  did,"  he  conceded.  "  But,  then,  I  never 
had  much  luck  with  women." 

The  Strong  Woman,  studying  him  intently, 
saw  fit  to  ameliorate  this  condition.  "  But  you 
will  have,"  she  said  forcefully. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     71 

Holly  turned  a  grave  face  on  Mrs.  Ajax.  The 
customary  twinkle  in  his  eyes  was  entirely  lacking 
— they  looked  lusterless  and  tired.  The  line  from 
the  nostril  to  the  corner  of  his  mouth  was  bitten 
deep  into  his  cheek  with  chagrin.  The  ranchman 
had  learned  something  about  himself  that  morn 
ing. 

"  No,"  he  said  briefly.     "  No.     I'm  too  old." 

The  Strong  Woman,  however,  was  not  dis 
mayed.  "  But  you  will  have,"  she  repeated  con 
fidently  as  she  strode  kitchenwards.  "  There's 
sponge  cake  in  the  oven,  so  I  can't  stop  to  explain, 
but  you — leave — it — to — me." 

He  was  still  pondering  this  Delphic  utterance 
when  an  Indian  boy,  with  black  hair  streaming, 
shot  out  of  the  kitchen-door  and  clanged  out  a 
delayed  dinner  call  on  the  ranch  triangle. 

"  Imogene  is  surely  restless,"  he  reflected. 
"  Perhaps  she  needs  a  mine  to  worry  over,"  and 
musing  over  a  bright  idea,  went  in  to  dinner. 

"  What's  the  latest  on  '  Red  Ant  Hills,'  Imo 
gene?"  inquired  the  younger  Blondelli  in  the  best 
of  spirits,  gayly  entering  the  dining-room  in  a 
manner  all  his  own. 

"  You  stop  walking  into  my  dining-room  on 
your  hands  with  your  feet  in  the  air,  or  you'll  get 


72     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

no  soup,  Harry  Doogan,"  snapped  Imogene.  "  If 
you  mean  Red  Ants,  it's  seven  cents.  Black  Hills 
is  so  good  it's  been  taken  off  the  Board.  How 
many  fancy  chickens  did  you  hatch  to-day,  Mister 
Smarty?" 

"  One,"  said  Harry  briefly,  cartwheeling  grace 
fully  into  a  chair  beside  his  fiancee.  "  The  egg 
was  too  big — it  came  out  a  duck.  But  we  don't 
care,  do  we,  Cobrita  ?  That's  better  than  picking 
out  goose-eggs — like  Imogene's  mines." 

"  Don't  brag  too  soon,"  warned  that  person 
darkly.  "  I  might  have  a  mine  yet — just  like 
Ringling  might  have  you  for  a  clown." 

A  flash  of  amusement  showed  in  the  ranchman's 
face. 

"Do  you  really  want  a  mine,  Imogene?"  he 
asked. 

Something  in  his  tones  made  Clarice's  large 
eyes  turn  and  envelop  him  in  their  soft  light. 
"  What  is  the  man  going  to  give  away  now?"  the 
girl  thought,  with  unsteady  emotions.  "  Shall  we 
leave  him  anything  at  all?  It's  begun  to  make  me 
feel  ashamed." 

The  man  felt  the  look,  for  he  smiled  and  even 
dared  to  wink.  "  Do  you  really  want  a  mine?" 
he  asked  a  second  time  of  the  speechless  Strong 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     73 

Woman.  "  You  can  have  a  deed  to  the  Morning 
Glory  if  you  like." 

"  Ma'am?  Sir?  "  gasped  Mrs.  Ajax.  "  What 
for?  I — I  mean — for  what?" 

"  Anything  you  say,"  was  the  easy  reply,  at 
which  even  Altamont  and  the  silent  Scanlan  looked 
surprised.  Only  the  genial  foreman  seemed  un 
perturbed. 

"  Make  it  a  raisin  pie,"  cackled  Drybone. 

"Done!9  said  Holly. 

At  this,  not  only  amazement  but  also  the  pros 
pect  of  untold  riches  ran  riot  in  the  Strong  Wom 
an's  mind.  Being  futilely  repressed,  they  soon 
emerged  and  contended  for  place  on  her  beaming 
countenance,  finally  giving  way  to  a  gratitude 
shaded  not  in  the  least  by  incredulity  but  tinged, 
rather,  with  faint  regret  over  the  consideration. 

"Just  one  pie?"  Imogene  quavered. 

"  One  good  pie,"  Holly  answered. 

A  week  later  they  saw  him  leaving  them  for 
several  days.  Something  unknown  to  any  of  the 
circus  except  Clarice  had  called  to  him  from  across 
the  desert  at  Bullionfield,  and  the  bay  pair  was 
ready  to  whirl  him  away  over  the  red-brown  plain 
and  the  twinkling  dry  lakes  to  where  the  mysterious 
treasure-house  lay  in  the  smoky  lap  of  the  ranges. 


74     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

But  the  Strong  Woman  managed  to  speak  a 
last,  low-toned  word  over  the  buggy-wheel. 
"  Drybone  says,  please  to  bring  back  some  seven- 
eighths  steel  and  a  twelve-pound  sledge.  He's 
getting  sore  because  I  broke  all  his  little  tack- 
hammers." 

Although  none  but  the  foreman  and  the  Indian 
boys  knew  just  what  surprising  changes  had  al 
ready  taken  place  in  the  Morning  Glory,  it  was 
undoubtedly  an  active  spot,  for  the  Strong  Woman 
was  no  longer  on  view  from  nine  to  eleven  in  the 
morning  or  from  two  to  four  in  the  afternoon. 
At  the  latter  hour,  a  series  of  muffled  shocks  in 
the  hill  were  generally  followed  by  her  reappear 
ance,  very  tired  and  dusty,  and  nursing  strange 
blisters. 

To-day  Imogene  and  Drybone  sat  on  powder- 
boxes  at  the  mouth  of  the  mine,  watching  the  In 
dian  boys  load  sacks  of  dump  ore  into  a  farm- 
wagon;  a  shipment  to  the  smelter  which  had  a 
more  practical  sponsor  than  the  foreman,  who  was 
now  advising  it. 

"We'll  call  this  first  shipment  'Lot  Number 
Three  Hundred  and  Fifteen — B.'  "  Drybone  said 
to  Imogene  confidentially.  "  That  will  make  us 
look  like  big  producers." 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     75 

"  Great! "  the  lady  responded,  however  she 
feared  his  ancient  wiles.  "  Maybe,  then,  the  smel 
ter  people  will  want  to  buy  me  out !  " 

"  Mebbe,"  agreed  Drybone  thoughtfully,  and 
his  seamed  face  added  some  unsuspected  lines  of 
humor.  "  It  might  turn  out  like  it  did  for  Powder- 
itch  Jones  when  he  was  digging  a  well  by  day's  pay 
for  a  man  back  in  Storey  County,  and  struck  a 
stringer  of  ore. 

"  Right  away  when  Powder-itch  panned  it  out 
he  forgot  all  about  the  well.  He  ran  a  little  drift 
off  the  shaft,  and  cross-cut — and  panned  again. 
And  then  he  sank  a  few  feet  on  an  incline  and 
drifted  some  more.  In  one  place  he  even  put  up  a 
raise  and  made  a  little  stope.  He  kept  it  up  quite 
a  while.  v 

"  One  day  the  man  came  back.  When  he  sees 
the  terrible  big  dump  outside  he  lays  down  on  his 
stummick  and  hollers : 

"  '  Y'u  got  my  well  dug  yet?  ' 

"  (  Not  quite,'  says  Powder-itch.  *  Be  keerful. 
Don't  get  too  near  the  edge.' 

' 1  don't  see  any  water,'  the  man  says  pretty 
soon.  *  Derned  if  this  ain't  the  queerest  well  / 
ever  see.  It  don't  look  like  a  well  at  all.  It  looks 


7.6     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

more  like   a   corkscrew.'     Then  the  man   thinks 
for  a  while  and  says: 

'  Ahem !  It  don't  seem  like  y'u  were  highly 
interested  in  wells.' 

*  Oh,  I  might  give  y'u  a  week's  work  and  take 
a  sort  of  half  interest  in  this  one,'  says  Powder- 
itch,  with  a  yawn. 

"  '  Done,'  says  the  man.  *  Work  a  week  without 
any  pay  and  we'll  go  halves  on  the  water.' 

"  Next  week  the  man  comes  back  and  lays  down 
on  his  stummick  and  hollers: 
'  Y'u  got  my  well  dug  yet? ' 

"  '  Not  quite,'  says  Powder-itch.  *  Be  keerful. 
Don't  get  too  near  the  edge.' 

"  *  That  water  is  surely  deceitful,'  the  man  says. 

"  '  It's  worse  than  whisky,'  says  Powder-itch. 
*  And  furthermore,  I've  a  feelin'  coming  over  me 
that  I'm  about  to  lose  my  interest  again.  If  y'u 
say  so  I'll  trade  y'u  back  my  half  of  the  water 
for  the  well.' 

"  '  Done,7  says  the  man. 

"  '  Done,'  says  Powder-itch.  *  I  sold  the  well 
part  to-day  for  five  thousand.  I  didn't  want  to 
sink  it  in  too  deep.  I've  always  been  taught  to  let 
well  enough  alone.  And  then '  ' 

But  the  story  of  Powder-itch  Jones  was  never 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     77 

finished,  for  at  the  crucial  moment  the  Strong 
Woman  had  risen  hastily  from  the  powder-box, 
and  with  loud  breaths  and  heaving  shoulders  had 
been  rapidly  lost  to  view  in  the  mine. 

But  however  Imogene's  venture  was  regarded 
there  were  no  signs  of  envy  when  the  mail  brought 
her  the  returns  from  the  smelter.  Blissfully  re 
covering  from  the  shock  which  the  figures  gave 
her,  she  instinctively  carried  the  good  news  to  Miss 
Belvawney. 

That  young  lady  looked  up  from  her  reading 
and  greeted  her  with  earnest  affection,  which  was 
not  Clarice's  way  with  women. 

"  I  think  you  ought  to  know  that  we're  all  just 
as  glad  as  we  can  be,"  she  said.  u  You've  watched 
over  us  so  long  and  mothered  us  so  carefully  that 
I  only  wish  it  were  twice  as  much.  Mr.  Holly  will 
be  back  to-morrow,  and  I  know  he'll  be  happier 
than  any  of  us.  You're  an  old  dear,  Imogene, 
and  I  hope  you  strike  a  bonanza  every  single  day." 

Under  treatment  of  so  genuine  a  nature  the 
Strong  Woman  immediately  surrendered  to  the 
vein  of  sentiment  that  lay  close  to  her  martial 
exterior.  Sinking  into  a  rocker  beside  the  girl,  she 
stared  thoughtfully  out  over  the  desert. 

"  A  few  more  checks  like  that  and  maybe  I  can 


78     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

have  something  done  for  Altamont,"  she  said. 
"  He's  been  on  my  mind  a  lot,  lately." 

"  Is  he  growing  worse?"  the  girl  asked, 
startled. 

"  He's  getting  better"  was  Imogene's  quick  re 
sponse.  "  That's  what's  set  me  thinking." 

"  You  know — we  weren't  always  like  this, 
Clarice.  Altamont  was  somebody  once.  He  was 
even  a  bigger  man  when  I  married  him — he 
weighed  a  lot  more,  and  he  stood  higher  than  I  do 
now.  I  know  we  look  awful  funny  together,  but 
there  was  a  time  when  you  wouldn't  have  looked 
at  me  at  all.  And  then  he  bumped  his  head  in 
that  train  wreck  coming  out  of  Council  Bluffs, 
loway.  Well — since  then  Altamont  hasn't  done  a 
great  deal  in  this  world.  The  doctors  said  there 
was  a  chance  for  him, — if  I  could  only  get  them 
money  enough.  But  somehow — somehow " 

"  Now,  n-e-e-ver  mind,  Imogene,"  the  girl  inter 
posed.  "  Don't  let  your  mind  dwell  on  the  im 
possible.  We  can't  afford  to  be  anything  but 
cheerful  here  in  another  person's  home,  and  I  feel 
right  down  in  my  bones  that  if  we  stay  here  every 
thing  will  turn  out  right.  You  don't  want  to  go 
away  for  a  while  yet,  do  you?" 

"  Not   on   your   sacred   tin-type,"    whimpered 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     79 

Imogene.  "  Do  you  think  I'm  crazy?  I'm  so 
happy  I  just  want  a  good  old  cry." 

During  the  subsequent  interval  for  drying  tears, 
the  elder  woman's  eye  fell  on  Clarice's  book. 
"  What  have  you  got  there,  girlie?"  she  asked, 
with  a  return  to  her  normal  curiosity.  "  The 
words  are  all  like  names  for  corsets — it  must  be 
French." 

"  A  history  of  the  United  States,"  Clarice  ex 
plained,  a  little  consciously.  "  I'm  studying  it  in 
French  to  save  time.  I  always  stood  well  in  French 
in  school  before  I  had  to  take  gym  classes  in  the 
old  Turnverein,  and  this  way  I  can  learn  two  things 
at  once.  I  bought  some  lovely  books  by  mail  last 
week,"  the  girl  confessed.  "  I've  been  longing  for 
this  chance  for  ever  and  ever  so  long." 

"  Hmmmmm,"  said  Imogene  thoughtfully. 
"  But  men  don't  like  little  girlies  that  know  so 
much." 

"That  wouldn't  affect  me,"  Clarice  returned 
calmly. 

"  Because  you  don't  know  much,  or  because 
you  don't  like  men?" 

"  Either — or  both"  was  the  collected  response. 

"  My — my!"  murmured  the  shocked  Imogene. 
"  But  you  like  Mr.  Holly,  don't  you,  Petty?  " 


8o     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

"  Very  much." 

"  Hmmmm,"  said  Imogene  dreamily.  "  Just 
see,  Dearie,  how  your  sleeve  has  started  to  ravel 
there  at  the  elbow.  Those  Indian  washerwomen 
are  awfully  hard  on  those  fine  goods.  Who 
taught  you  to  put  your  hair  up  that  way,  child? 
It  looks  awfully  nice — I  think  you  have  the  finest, 
sweetest  hair,  Clarice.  And  your  skin's  so  good — 
and  your  eyes.  This  place  has  certainly  done  a 
lot  for  you — with  your  riding  and  all.  You  look 
made  over.  But  you  always  did  look  like  a  lady." 

"  I  hope  so,"  the  girl  said  soberly.  "  My 
mother  was  one." 

There  was  not  much  doubt  of  it.  But  whatever 
mystery  there  was  in  the  girl's  past  was  dwarfed  by 
the  oddity  that  she  should  have  been  drawn  into 
circus  life  at  all.  Popular  fancy  is  apt  to  make 
acrobatics  a  matter  of  heredity,  with  the  knack  of 
the  u  double  flip  "  or  the  ankle  coyly  engaging  the 
back  of  the  neck,  passed  down  through  Papa  and 
Mamma  Fortuno  to  all  the  Five  Little  Fearless 
Fortunes,  but  Clarice  would  have  had  to  search 
still  further  for  the  source  of  her  atavism.  And 
yet,  beyond  a  matchless  physique  whose  hunger  for 
activity  brooked  no  refusal,  there  was  nothing  in 
the  girl  which  could  not  be  controlled  except,  per- 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     81 

haps,  when  danger  called.  It  was  here  that  the 
real  enemy  lay  hidden,  for  just  as  the  wolf-dog 
returns  to  run  with  the  pack  and  the  descendant  of 
the  good  four-bottle-man  reaches  instinctively  for 
the  decanter,  so  the  Belvawney  blood  leaped  up 
whenever  any  bright,  perilous  game  challenged  it. 

Just  how  she  had  drifted  into  circus  life,  the 
girl  hardly  knew,  except  that  work  of  some  kind 
had  become  a  necessity  after  her  mother's  death, 
and  the  gradual  progression  from  Turner  gym 
nastics  to  professional  work  under  canvas  had 
seemed  a  natural  evolution.  Although  her  girl 
hood  had  been  spent  in  the  East  her  life  as  a  child 
had  been  passed  in  a  small  town  in  some  Western 
State  where,  it  seems,  there  had  been  a  father. 
But  he  had  been  a  very  vague  sort  of  father,  who 
seemed  to  be  forever  patting  her  cheek  and  saying 
good-by,  so  that  semi-penury  and  a  single  parent 
had  always  been  accepted  conditions  for  Clarice. 

Beyond  these  fugitive  memories  the  girl  pos 
sessed  only  a  single  thing  connected  with  her 
former  life,  and  that  was  her  mother's  ring.  It 
was  not  a  particularly  handsome  ring,  being  only 
a  rudely  chased  affair  of  clasped  hands  and  made, 
so  the  ranchman  said,  of  soft  nugget  gold,  but 
somehow  the  understanding  had  persisted  through- 


82     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

out  the  years  that  its  replica  was  on  her  father's 
hand.  Until  to-day  this  had  seemed  a  very  slim 
clue  indeed,  but  now  that  Clarice  had  entered  on 
another  phase  of  life  she  felt,  and  not  unnaturally, 
that  she  needed  a  father  more  than  she  needed  any 
thing  else,  and  so  the  poor  little  ring  had  come  to 
be  her  most  jealously  guarded  possession. 

"Why  don't  you  marry,  Clarice?"  Imogene 
pursued  in  purring  tones.  "  What's  the  use  of  a 
girl  forever  fighting  the  world  for  her  living? 
You  don't  want  to  juggle  those  little  balls  up  on  a 
trapeze  from  now  till  you're  forty  and  then  spend 
the  rest  of  your  life  staring  out  of  a  boarding- 
house  window !  It's  time  you  had  a  home  of  your 


own." 


As  the  girl  only  stared  straight  before  her  with 
out  replying  Imogene  tried  a  few  leads. 

"  I  always  thought  that  freckled-up  hardware 
man  in  Salt  Lake  looked  good.  He " 

"  Chewed  tobacco,"  supplied  Clarice,  swiftly 
and  finally. 

"  He  wasn't  as  nice,  perhaps,  as  the  little  drug 
gist  back  in  Pueblo.  He  was  near-sighted,  of 
course " 

"  So  he  was,"  the  girl  said  grimly.  "  Espe 
cially  when  his  mother  was  with  him," 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     83 

"  But  how  about  the  rich  candy  man's  son  in 
Denver?  Surely  he  was  all  right,  wasn't  he ?  He 
had  an  automobile,  anyway,"  muttered  Imogene. 
"That's  more  than  that  young  Englishman  had 
who  read  poetry  with  you  all  the  time  on  the  train 
coming  out  of  Vancouver.  What  ever  became  of 
him,  Dearie?  He  had  such  bony  legs." 

"  He  went  back  home.  His  brother  died.  He's 
an  Earl,  now.  Oh,  I'm  afraid  you  don't  under 
stand,  Imogene,"  the  girl  cried  despairingly.  "  I 
know  I'm  only  a  second-class  acrobat  but,  some 
how,  I  can't  stand  the  common  ones  and  the  nice 
ones  wouldn't  have  me." 

"  But  why  wouldn't  they?  "  persisted  Imogene 
stubbornly.  "  I'll  bet  fifty  cents  none  of  those 
Earlesses  can  stand  on  their  head  and  jug 
gle  three  balls !  I  guess  those  *  nice  ones  '  you 
talk  about  never  saw  Clarice  in  her  suit  of  little 
green  ti " 

"Don't  say  that  word!"  the  girl  interrupted 
fuiously.  u  I  won't  have  it.  I  never  want  to  hear 
it  again  as  long  as  I  live.  I  hate  it !  "  Two  bright 
spots  stained  the  girl's  cheeks,  her  throat  filled, 
her  eyes  burned  like  hot,  twin  stars. 

"  Give  me  a  chance,  Imogene,"  she  said  impul 
sively  to  that  true  and  tried  friend.  "  Just  let  me 


84     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

stay  here  a  while  and  read  some  good  books  and 
study  up  my  bookkeeping,  so  that  I  can  get  settled 
down  to  what  I  want  to  do.  I've  made  a  show  of 
myself  long  enough." 

She  paused  for  a  moment,  then  turned  a  strained 
face. 

" I've  wasted  my  life"  she  said  with  bitter  dis 
tinctness.  "  I've  thrown  it  away.  For  a  whole 
year  I've  tried  to  get  somewhere,  and  do  some 
thing,  and  be  somebody,  but  it's  all  come  to  noth 
ing.  And  it  never  will  come  to  anything.  I  can 
just  feel  life  slipping,  slipping  away  from  me  like 
sand  out  of  my  fingers — and  I  can't  seem  to  wake 
up.  And  yet  I  don't  want  much.  I  just  want  a 
place  for  myself,  and  friendships,  and  the  things 
that  others  earn,  and  a  decent,  natural  life  where  I 
can  work  for  them.  I've  got  it  all  in  me — why 
can't  I  get  it  out?  And  the  very  biggest  thing  of 
all — I  know  now  that  that  will  never  come.  I 

want — I  want "    The  girl's  voice  fluttered  and 

broke,  and  she  hid  her  crimsoning  face  in  her 
hands. 

"  I  know,  Dearie,  I  know,"  childless  Imogene 
answered.  "So  do  we  all  want  it." 

And  so,  after  a  time,  with  an  understanding 
squeeze  of  a  hand,  the  Strong  Woman  left  the 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     85 

girl  to  herself.     But  as  she  proceeded  along  the 
path  to  the  kitchen  she  broke  into  broad  smiles. 

"  Bookkeeping,  indeed,"  she  chuckled.  u  And 
Cobrita,  she  wanted  to  run  away  and  bury  herself 
in  a  retail  shoe-store  before  Angelo  spoke  to  her ! 
And  /  wanted  to  be  a  milliner  before  Altamont 
condescended !  Wouldn't  I  have  made  a  dandy  lit 
tle  milliner!  It's  all  I  can  do  to  trim  a  pie !  " 

Then  she  stopped  short  before  a  male  figure 
that  seemed  to  start  out  of  the  ground  at  the 
kitchen-door. 

"  WELL,  for  GOODNESS  SAKES!  "  she  ex 
claimed,  open-mouthed.  "Darned  if  it  isn't  the 
Wild  Man  from  Java  come  back  to  us !  What  in 
the  world  are  you  doing  here,  Wild  Man?" 

"  Yas'm.  This  is  me,"  the  Indian  responded 
diffidently.  "  My  wife,  here — she  make  me  come." 

"But  where  in  Glory  have  you  been  all  this 
time?  Who  cut  your  hair?  What  are  you  so  fat 
for?" 

"  The  Gov'ment — over  on  the  Reservation.  It's 
pretty  good  to  us,"  the  Wild  Man  said  with  a 
cheerful  grin.  "  I  got  real  clothes  now.  My  wife 
— she  been  wash  for  you — maybeso  long  time. 
Some  days  I  eat  three  meals!  " 

"  Don't  tell  me  she's  been  supporting  you  all 


86     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

this  time/'  said  the  scandalized  Strong  Woman. 
"  See  here,  Wild  Man,"  she  pursued  relentlessly. 
"  You've  got  to  pay  us  for  the  little  Trained  Pig 
you  ate.  You'll  have  to  work  it  out.  Everybody 
works  here,  you  know." 

"  Yass.    I  know." 

u  Well,"  announced  Imogene  with  stern  de 
cision,  "  mornings  you  work  in  my  mine.  Meal 
times  you  wait  on  table.  Afternoons  you  train 
the  elephant.  You  do  that  for  a  month  and  maybe 
I'll  forgive  you.  You  like  the  elephant,  you 
know." 

11  Y-a-a-s-s.     I  know." 

"  Humph !  If  you  don't  I'll  break  your  neck, 
Wild  Man.  YOU  KNOW!" 

Although  the  departure  of  the  Strong  Woman 
left  Miss  Belvawney  to  herself,  the  study  of  the 
polite  tongue  was  not  resumed  with  all  its  former 
vigor.  In  spite  of  her  despairing  outburst  the 
efforts  she  was  making  to  straighten  out  her  life 
were  meeting  with  very  tolerable  success,  for  at 
least  there  was  time  to  reflect  on  whither  she  was 
drifting.  She  smiled  faintly  when  she  remembered 
how  she  had  studied  Drybone's  seamed  and  time- 
worn  visage  only  that  very  day.  She  knew  that 
Drybone  had  a  family  elsewhere,  and  she  under- 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     87 

stood  now  how  the  barrier  which  neglect  and  dis 
couragement  had  raised  had  gradually  become  un- 
surmountable.  It  seemed  likely  that  her  own 
father  had  gone  through  the  same  experience. 
But  she  soon  dismissed  this  train  of  thought  and 
began  to  think  about  the  owner  of  the  ranch,  for 
the  situation  which  she  knew  he  was  approaching 
that  same  day  at  Bullionfield  made  her  long  to  help 
in  some  more  substantial  way  than  merely  by  filing 
papers.  She  was  very  certain  that  the  connection 
between  the  Moab  storekeeper  and  Macklin,  the 
Atlas  man,  was  much  less  shadowy  than  Holly 
seemed  to  suppose.  It  seemed  illogical  that  Buck- 
ner  should  turn  against  the  ranchman  simply  be 
cause  the  latter  had  been  shrewd  enough  to  buy  in 
a  poorly  considered  prospect  and  promptly  turn 
it  into  a  producing  mine.  Something  more  sinister 
than  jealousy  lay  hidden  there,  and  that  part  of  the 
girl's  daring  which  was  not  yet  under  the  ban  re 
solved  to  find  out  just  what  this  was. 

Rising  from  her  chair,  the  girl  walked  to  the 
end  of  the  porch  and  looked  down  towards  the  cor 
ral.  The  pony  which  Holly  had  set  apart  for  her 
use  was  nosing  expectantly  across  the  bars — the 
road  to  Moab  lay  open — why  should  she  not  be 
come  better  acquainted  with  the  wily  purveyor  of 


88     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

groceries  ?  As  she  stood  there  thinking,  an  Indian 
boy  lounged  into  the  corral  and  presently  emerged 
leading  the  old  piebald  that  always  went  for  the 
mail. 

Clarice  called  to  the  boy  and  shook  her  head. 
u  Take  him  back  and  saddle  Polly  instead,"  she 
said.  "  I  am  going  for  the  mail  after  this." 


CHAPTER  V 

FORTY  miles  away  over  the  desert  at  Bullion- 
field  at  this  same  hour  a  tall  man  in  khaki  stood  in 
its  dusty  thoroughfare,  exchanging  news  and  jocu 
larities  with  his  friends. 

With  his  coming,  all  work  in  the  Yellow  Dog 
mine,  for  some  occult  reason,  had  suddenly  been 
brought  to  an  end,  and  mystery  and  rumor  were 
rampant. 

"  Macklin's  right  noisy,  Dick,"  they  told  him, 
hardly  disguising  their  anxiety.  "  That  hike  East 
of  yours  must  have  cost  him  considerable  more 
'  high  grade '  than  he  likes  to  lose."  And  again, 
"  We're  hearing  that  these  new-fangled  *  apex 
suits  '  are  mighty  stylish  for  summer  wear."  All 
very  well  in  its  way,  but  no  man  likes  to  see  the 
prize  mine  of  a  boom  camp  suddenly  shut  down 
while  he  has  property  to  sell — at  a  fair  profit. 

"Lumber  must  be  getting  high,  Dick,"  they 
probed.  "  Your  man  Wiley  has  stopped  work  on 
the  new  mill,  we  see." 

"  Everything's  high — except  the  Yellow  Dog," 
89 


90     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

the  victim  agreed  blandly.     "  And  some  are  say 
ing  that  isn't  high  enough." 

They  understood  the  allusion,  for  hardly  a  man 
of  them  but  had  had  experience  on  one  side  or  the 
other  of  an  apex  difficulty  much  like  that  now  ap 
parently  coming  up.  Holly's  claim,  with  the  Atlas 
parallel  to  it  and  above  it,  lay  immediately  behind 
the  town,  from  where  the  iron-stained  outcrop- 
pings  of  the  two  veins  could  be  seen  appearing  at 
intervals  above  the  ground  in  their  courses  up  the 
hillside.  As  Bullionfield  prided  itself  on  knowing, 
the  Yellow  Dog  had  been  originally  opened  by  a 
shaft  near  the  highest  point  of  the  outcrop  and 
developed  to  a  depth  of  four  hundred  feet  with 
what  the  Bullionfield  Booster  modestly  confessed 
were  dazzling  results,  but  while  every  miner  in 
camp  could  describe  the  wonders  of  the  four-hun 
dred-foot  level,  scarcely  a  man  knew  precisely 
what  had  happened  in  the  tunnel  driven  to  tap  the 
vein  three  hundred  feet  below.  Popular  opinion, 
lounging  against  Bullionfield  bars,  produced  solid 
arguments  to  show  that  the  ore  shoot  had  not  been 
found  in  the  tunnel,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  equally 
solid  (or  liquid)  statements  were  made  that  the 
Atlas  vein,  dipping  into  Yellow  Dog  ground  at 
depth,  had  proved  itself  the  "  mother  lode  "  of  the 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     91 

two  veins  and  so  furnished  just  and  righteous 
cause  for  injunction  and  suit.  It  was  true  that 
developments  in  the  Atlas  were  confined  to  a  sixty- 
foot  shaft  and  a  decrepit  windlass,  but  in  view  of 
Holly's  silence  as  to  his  tunnel,  the  second  theory 
was  steadily  gaining  ground.  And  so,  while  the 
Booster's  editor  searched  feverishly  for  synonyms 
for  "  stupefying  "  and  picking  up  a  blue  pencil, 
wrote,  "  Beat  it  to  Bullionfield "  as  a  six-inch 
"  head,"  lip  slipped  it  to  lip  that  old-timer  Mack- 
lin  had  Dick  Holly  cut  off  at  the  pockets. 

A  man  parted  the  swinging  doors  of  a  saloon 
and  scrutinized  the  group  as  they  talked.  Pres 
ently,  he  came  out  with  the  sidewise  shuffle  of  an 
aged  crab  and  hurried  past  as  if  on  important  busi 
ness.  He  was  a  thin,  stoop-shouldered  individual 
of  sixty  or  more,  with  a  blotched  face  half  hidden 
by  a  straggling  gray  beard.  Except  for  an  un 
pleasantly  broken  set  of  teeth  and  an  inflamed  eye, 
he  differed  in  no  wise  from  any  of  the  vague-faced 
nondescripts  that  infested  the  camp,  but  for  a 
quite  sufficient  reason  the  group  saw  fit  to  notice 
his  approach.  Then  their  glances  with  one  accord 
swung  around  to  Holly. 

"  How  are  you,  Macklin?"  the  big  man  re 
marked  blandly.  "  Pleasant  day  we're  having." 


92     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

They  watched  the  old  man  hurry  down  the 
street,  and  amused  themselves  again. 

"  The  Stage  Office,  I  reckon." 

"  No.  The  freight  on  Bibles  is  up  again,  darn 
it." 

"The  Post  Office— for  a  letter!" 

"  Gosh,  no !  His  girl  went  back  on  him  in 
'eighty-eight." 

"  Tom  Osborn's  law  shop !  " 

;<  Tom's  hanging  a  man  in  Tuniper  to-day." 

UTHE  RED  ONION!  Oh,  Lordy!"  they 
laughed,  as  the  old  man  obliqued  into  a  saloon. 
u  All  that  importance  for  a  drink.  Well,  that 
reminds  me — But,  SAY !  You've  heard  of  this 
1  Drew '  business?  What  about  it?" 

"  Adios,  boys,"  said  Holly,  quickly  turning 
away.  "  I've  got  to  influence  the  Sheriff  about  my 
taxes." 

He  didn't  want  to  talk  about  Danny's  end  just 
then.  There  was  no  longer  any  doubt  in  his  own 
mind  but  that  old  Joey  Macklin  had  been  respon 
sible  for  Drew's  death,  but  too  much  idle  talk  in 
the  absence  of  direct  proof  meant  too  much  money 
for  the  Atlas.  And  also,  however  much  he  longed 
to  revenge  himself  for  the  cruel  work  of  thirty 
years  ago,  the  interests  of  a  man  soon  to  reach 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     93 

Bullionfield  from  Philadelphia  called  for  business 
before  pleasure.  But  he  felt,  nevertheless,  that 
there  might  be  some  devious  plan  by  which  both 
of  his  lawful  designs  might  yet  be  accomplished 
and  so  lounged  in  his  amiable  way  about  the 
town,  searching  among  the  flesh-pots  for  the  Law 
in  Bullionfield. 

He  found  the  Sheriff  mournfully  corroborating 
the  Silver  Grill  man's  statement  that  the  little  ball 
had  just  dropped  into  the  "  Double  O." 

"  There's  life  for  y'u,"  sighed  the  investigator, 
following  out  into  the  sunlight.  "  Y'u  fixes  your 
bets  so  y'u  just  can't  lose  and  then — bang — comes 
the  goose-egg." 

"  Jake,"  said  Holly,  in  the  privacy  of  the 
sage-peppered  hillside,  "  who  killed  Danny 
Drew?" 

"  Danny's  been  dead  a  long  time,"  Jake  an 
swered,  without  emotion.  "  Macklin,  I  reckon — 
between  y'u  and  me." 

"  Can  you  prove  it?" 

The  Sheriff  rubbed  his  grizzled  chin  and  con 
sidered. 

"  Mebbe,"  said  he,  and  then  with  judicial  appre 
ciation  of  man's  constitutional  rights,  "  mebbe 
not." 


94     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

Holly  smiled.  He  was  just  in  time.  Others 
were  planning,  too. 

"  Will  you  go  slow  for  a  while  and  let  me  prove 
it?" 

The  Sheriff  cocked  a  quizzical  eyebrow.  "  They 
say  that  Atlas  is  good  ground,  Dick,"  he  grinned. 
"  I  don't  mind  telling  y'u  that  I've  got  a  man  who 
knowed  Drew  coming  here  tu  take  a  look  at  old 
Joey.  As  a  clue,  it's  about  as  exciting  as  a  drink 
of  water,  but  it's  the  only  one  I've  got.  He'll  pull 
in  yere  in  about  two  weeks,  I  reckon." 

'  Then  you'll  hold  the  dogs  off  while  I  make  a 
try?" 

By  way  of  answer  impartial  Justice  lost  sight  in 
the  left  eye — and  regained  it. 

The  ranchman  interposed  himself  between  the 
Sheriff  and  the  town.  "Of  course,  we  haven't 
quite  figured  out  our  first  dividend  on  the  Yellow1 
Dog  yet,"  he  murmured,  "  but  I've  a  feeling 
coming  over  me  that  it'll  be  about  a  dollar  a 
share." 

"  I'm  real  perplexed  tu  know  what  that  would 
be  on  a  block  of  a  hundred,"  the  Sheriff  murmured 
dreamily  back.  "  However  did  I  come  tu  forgit 
them  little  shares?  Why,  I  guess  I  must  have 
lost  'em." 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     95 

u  You'll  have  a  new  certificate  soon,"  said 
Holly,  as  the  dividend  was  declared. 

They  approached  the  town  again,  and  paused 
before  the  Hall  of  Research  into  Chance. 

"  I  seem  to  be  worrying  about  that  *  mystery ' 
again,"  the  Sheriff  said.  "  I  don't  feel  right  about 
it  yet." 

"About " 

"  That  '  Double  O,'  "  replied  the  Sheriff,  and 
passed  from  sight. 

A  few  minutes  later  Holly  passed  by  the  watch 
man  whittling  away  his  time  on  a  powder-box  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Yellow  Dog  tunnel  and  entered 
the  mine  office.  •  A  shirt-sleeved  young  man  with 
candle-greased  trousers  looked  up  from  his  figuring 
amid  the  blue  prints  of  a  draughting-table.  "  The 
second  sampling  figures  out  a  little  higher  than  the 
first,"  he  said  with  a  happy  grin,  extending  a 
sheet  of  calculations.  "  And  that's  after  leaving 
out  all  the  rich  streaks,  too." 

"  Don't  get  us  overheated,  Patterson,"  was  the 
good-humored  reply.  "  If  Wiley  has  got  the  cross 
cut  to  that  tunnel  winze  closed  up  by  now,  I  guess 
you  can  let  our  friend  Macklin  wander  up  here. 
Tell  him — tell  him  I  want  to  talk  business" 

The  proprietor  of  the  Red  Onion,  for  the  first 


96     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

time  in  months,  saw  his  most  promising  patron  de 
part  from  his  doors,  leaving  a  perfectly  good  drink 
all  untouched.  Incredulous  lips  immediately  sam 
pled  the  drink  while  equally  doubtful  eyes  fol 
lowed  his  slow  ascent  of  the  Yellow  Dog  trail  in 
the  wake  of  the  young  engineer.  "  I  guess  I'd  bet 
ter  put  the  bubbles  on  ice,"  the  Onion  man  mut 
tered.  "  Dick  Holly's  going  tu  buy  him  out." 

Although  the  ranchman  was  apparently  ab 
sorbed  in  conversation  with  the  tunnel  watchman 
as  Macklin  drew  near  he  missed  few  details  of  the 
man's  face  or  figure.  He  was  trying  to  con 
struct  a  taller  man  out  of  that  bent  shape,  trying 
to  clear  up  the  watery  eyes  and  erase  the  straggling 
beard  and  make  a  flat,  thick-lipped  face  with  high 
cheekbones  out  of  one  which  whisky  had  thinned 
and  hollowed.  But  while  he  failed  to  satisfy  him 
self  thus  of  the  identity  he  found  other  means 
equally  good,  for  he  suddenly  began  to  interpret 
the  look  which  he  had  always  seen  in  the  old  man's 
eyes.  He  saw  now  that  not  only  did  the  other 
know  him  as  the  boy  of  long  ago  whom  he  had  left 
stranded  on  the  desert,  but  he  had  always  known 
him. 

"  Macklin,"  said  the  ranchman,  u  do  you  re 
member  the  offer  I  made  you  six  months  ago  ?  " 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     97 

"  Y'u  kin  bet  I  do,  Mister  Good-player,"  was 
the  ready  response.  "  And  it  warn't  very  high  at 
that.  'Twas  fifty  thousand  dollars." 

"  Not  quite,"  corrected  Holly.  "  Forty— if  I 
recollect.  But  now  I've  decided  to  make  you  a 
new  offer." 

"Yes?" 

"  Yes,"  said  the  ranchman  dryly.  "  I'll  give 
you  fifteen." 

The  other's  jaw  dropped  and  he  fell  back  a 
step. 

"  What  do  you  mean?"  he  rasped  angrily. 
"  Did  y'u  bring  me  'way  up  here  for  a 
joke?" 

Holly  raised  an  interrupting  hand.  "  Perhaps 
the  joke  is  on  both  of  us,  Joey,"  he  said.  "  Did 
you  ever  see  what  happened  to  our  vein  on  the 
seven  hundred?  Light  up  a  candle  and  come 


in." 


With  a  puzzled  look  on  his  face,  the  old  man 
took  a  candle  out  of  the  watchman's  box  and  fol 
lowed  Holly.  That  he  was  now  being  urged  to 
enter  what  he  had  previously  been  shut  out  from 
gave  him  food  for  thought.  Only  one  thing  could 
account  for  such  a  remarkable  reversal.  And  if 
there  was  something  radically  wrong  with  the  Yel- 


98     THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

low  Dog,  there  was  probably  something  wrong 
with  the  Atlas,  too. 

Near  the  breast  of  the  tunnel,  some  nine  hun 
dred  feet  in  by  Macklin's  mental  count,  the  ranch 
man  stopped  and  raised  his  candle  above  his  head 
with  a  significant  gesture,  and  at  the  front  itself 
he  climbed  the  heap  of  rubble  and  held  the  light 
close  to  the  rock. 

"  Do  you  get  me,  Macklin?  "  he  said,  while  he 
watched  the  other  closely.  "  Do  you  blame  me 
now  for  changing  my  bid?  She's  not  only  petered 
out,  but  she's  all  shot  to  pieces  and  faulted  clear 
to  Glory !  Look  at  that  front !  '  Foot '  and 
'hanging'  all  run  together  like  a  scrambled  egg! 
Your  world  beater  of  an  Atlas  mine  isn't  worth 
two  rubber  nickels  below  the  six-hundred-foot 
level,  or  this  one  either.  How  about  that  { law 
suit'  now?" 

The  old  man  stood  staring  and  silent.  Too 
much  of  a  miner  not  to  read  the  unmistakable 
signs  of  a  "  fault  "  he  knew  instinctively  that  the 
Atlas  vein,  only  a  few  hundred  feet  away  through 
the  rock,  had  probably  undergone  the  same  dis 
placement.  While  the  vein  in  either  case  could 
doubtless  be  found  again  in  time,  yet  the  rich  pay- 
shoots  of  the  upper  levels  undoubtedly  came  to 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX     99 

a  very  definite  end  near  where  they  stood  in  the 
murky  tunnel. 

Irresolute  and  disconcerted,  fully  aware  that 
the  value  of  the  Atlas  both  as  a  producer  and  an 
"apex"  mine  had  suddenly  taken  a  sickening 
drop,  the  old  man  stood  with  his  dripping  candle 
held  above  his  head,  mumbling  profanity  through 
his  beard  and  searching  for  some  sign  to  which  he 
could  pin  a  desperate  hope. 

The  flickering  flame  threw  queer  shadows  on  the 
gaunt  face,  spotting  it  with  high  lights  as  does  a 
campfire  after  dark,  snatching  the  years  away  to 
put  coarse  young  manhood  in  their  place,  then 
doubly  aging  its  wrinkles  with  senile  evils.  The 
light  fell  on  the  slack  mouth  and  wavering  chin, 
dropped  to  the  wasted  neck  and  talon-like  hand 
where  a  heavy  gold  ring  glittered,  then  shone,  full 
and  yellow,  on  the  bared  arm  from  which  the  sleeve 
had  fallen  away. 

The  ranchman  saw  the  sleeve  fall — and  clicked 
his  teeth  together.  Flatwheel  had  been  right. 
He  snuffed  out  his  candle*  between  finger  and 
thumb. 

"  Pm  making  you  a  very  fair  offer,"  he  said, 
out  of  the  darkness.  "  Nobody  knows  about  this 
fault  except  a  few — and  we  are  looking  to  keep  it 


ioo  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

quiet.  Probably  you  will,  too.  Of  course,  you 
can  try  to  sell  out  to  some  tenderfoot  for  a  bigger 
price,  but  I  guess  I  can  get  to  him  before  all  the 
papers  are  signed.  Perhaps,  in  that  case,  he  would 
not  be  enthusiastic  with  the  coin.  Now — you  have 
got  a  little  ore  up  above — perhaps — and  I  am 
giving  you  a  chance  to  sell  it.  Make  up  your  mind 
and  let  me  know  inside  of  two  weeks — not  a  day 
later." 

As  the  other  only  nodded  vacantly,  Holly 
touched  him  on  the  arm  and  started  for  the  outer 
air.  "  Look  and  sample  all  you  like,"  he  said. 
"  I'm  going  out — I  can't  stand  it.  It's  just  the 
same  as  if  I'd  been  walking  along  to  my  wedding 
some  nice  bright  day  and  all  of  a  sudden  I  came 
across  my  best  man  lying  out  in  the  brush,  cold, — 
shot,  maybe — shot  in  the  back — well,  you  know 
how  it  is." 

The  other  man's  candle  slipped  from  his  fingers 
and  went  out  in  the  broken  rock  underfoot.  "  I'll 
come,  too,"  he  muttered.  "  I  feel  like  I  needed 
a  drink." 

At  the  tunnel's  mouth  they  parted  company,  and 
the  old  man  picked  his  way  down  the  trail  to  the 
Red  Onion  and  the  town. 

"What  was   it  he  said  about  a   felluh  being 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   101 

shot?"  he  mused  suspiciously.  "  He's  hard  tu 
savey.  And  who'd  a-thought  he'd  grow  up  so 
from  such  a  kid?  I  didn't  feel  just  right  in  there 
with  him.  I  should  have  took  another  drink  afore 
I  went  up.  But  now  is  just  as  good,"  he  reflected 
happily,  and  passed  inside. 

"Well?"  queried  the  anxious  owner  of  the 
Onion.  "  What  did  he  say?  Will  he  buy?  Did 
he  talk  turkey?" 

The  old  man  poured  calmly  and  smacked  his  lips 
with  due  deliberation.  "  If  y'u  want  tu  call  it 
that,"  he  remarked  scornfully,  as  he  picked  out  a 
comfortable  chair  and  retired  behind  a  newspaper. 
"  He  offered  me  a  measly  hundred  thousand  and  I 
threw  him  down." 

That  afternoon  a  new  face  showed  itself  among 
the  habitues  of  the  Onion.  He  was  a  miner  like 
the  others,  a  person  with  a  sociable  smile  and 
pleasing  carelessness  as  to  money.  Someone  said 
that  he'd  once  been  a  drill-runner  in  Holly's  tunnel, 
at  which  remark  the  Atlas  man,  hunched  up  over 
a  painfully  penciled  letter  to  one  Buckner,  at 
Moab,  raised  a  calculative  eye  and  decided  to 
make  the  newcomer's  acquaintance.  Which  par 
ticular  thing  was  precisely  what  the  drill-runner 
had  been  instructed  to  accomplish. 


102   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

And  so  the  day  ended,  with  a  beginning  made 
and  a  little  more  known  and  another  one  of  Holly's 
tunnel  workers  cashing  a  pink  check  at  the  "  New 
York  Store  "  and  fitting  out  "  for  a  little  pros 
pecting." 


CHAPTER  VI 

HOME  again,  and  down  by  the  corral,  the  ranch 
man  was  unhitching  his  tired  pair  in  the  darkness. 
He  had  crossed  the  desert  without  water  in  the 
heat  of  the  day,  the  center  of  a  pall  of  alkali  dust 
which  had  drifted  back  and  forth  all  day  long  be 
tween  the  rear  wheels  and  his  horses'  ears.  The 
fine  white  powder  lay  thick  on  his  hat-brim  and 
gritted  between  his  teeth,  and  when  he  had  turned 
his  animals  loose  he  knelt  by  an  irrigating  ditch 
and  washed  his  parched  mouth  free. 

The  ranch-house  lay  quiet  and  vague  against 
the  purple  foothills.  Above  it  the  plume-like  pop 
lars  swayed  gently  across  the  last  yellow-shot 
horizon  light.  At  his  feet  the  dark  water  churked 
and  gurgled.  In  the  silent  dusk  about  him  he 
heard  the  first  of  the  mysterious  night  noises,  the 
faint  cries  of  the  tired  insect  world,  the  drowsy 
cheep  of  a  bird  teetering  on  a  limb,  the  croak  of  a 
tree-toad  grateful  for  the  cool  night  wind  on  his 
back.  The  scent  of  honeysuckle  came  down  the 
wind  and  he  thought  of  the  vine  which  clung  out 
side  the  office-window. 

103 


104  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

He  began  to  rehearse  again  the  role  he  had 
morbidly  planned  during  his  lonely  ride  that  day. 
He  had  already  divined  the  kind  of  man  she  would 
eventually  marry.  Probably  he  would  be  a  trim, 
brisk,  city  man  with  a  prosperous  business,  per 
haps  some  hustling  young  merchant  back  in  Salt 
Lake.  There  would  be  a  stone  house  up  on  the 
hill  near  the  Eagle  Gate  (with  only  a  small  mort 
gage  on  it),  and  she  would  wear  long,  sweeping 
trains  to  her  dresses  and  carry  a  lace  parasol. 
Yes.  Even  though  these  had  gone  out  of  style  she 
should  have  them.  That  was  a  very  small  thing 
to  insist  on.  She  was  not  to  grow  any  taller  with 
marriage  (after  some  troubled  thought)  but  was 
to  fill  out  sufficiently  so  that  when  she  rode  by  in 
her  carriage  she  would  be  noticed  for  her  striking 
beauty.  She  was  to  move  quietly  about  in  her 
church  and  social  circles,  making  lifelong  friends 
wherever  she  went,  through  her  tact  and — well — 
her  quickness  at  figures. 

As  he  neared  the  house  he  patiently  reviewed 
the  whole  miserable  horoscope, — then  saw  he  had 
omitted  something.  It  was  not  fitting  that  she  and 
the  young  merchant  should  always  live  alone.  The 
inevitable  consequences  must  be  considered.  Well, 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   105 

there  was  no  use  putting  it  off.  There  would  be 
a  perfect  raft  of 

A  faint  sound  came  to  him  out  of  the  darkness. 
A  luminous  white  figure  peered  at  him  uncer 
tainly  across  the  shadowy  fence.  The  gate  swung 
open. 

"  I  hoped  it  might  be  you,"  a  voice  said  with  a 
glad,  warm  note.  "  Welcome  home,  Mr.  Holly." 

Something  inside  of  poor  Dick  Holly  seemed 
to  cease  its  beating.  After  a  few  aeons,  however, 
its  action  resumed,  and  he  felt  the  blood  rushing 
back  into  his  face.  The  world  was  moving  on 
again. 

"Everything  O.K.?"  he  stammered,  his  care 
ful  role  blown  away — erased — forgotten.  Queer 
how  glad  the  desert  made  you  to  see  people  again ! 
So  she  had  been  thinking  about  him,  after  all! 
Queerer  still!  Had  she  heard  his  question?  He 
was  not  quite  sure  that  he  had  spoken  aloud.  But 
perhaps  he  had  better  first  return  the  hand  he 
found  himself  holding  with  the  clutch  of  a  drown 
ing  man.  For  one  wild  moment  he  threw  discre 
tion  to  the  winds  and  madly  hungered  to  catch 
her  in  his  arms.  Here  in  the  fragrant  darkness 
were  the  time  and  place — his  heart  went  out  with 
a  leap  to  her  who  was  the  girl. 


106  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

He  stepped  forward  and  laid  his  hand  on  her 
bare  arm,  resting  on  the  fence-top.  The  arm  was 
not  withdrawn,  though  it  quivered.  For  an  in 
stant  he  felt  her  eyes  flash  at  him  through  the 
darkness — then  he  lost  their  light.  The  soft, 
warm,  rounded  wrist  he  held  grew  softer,  less 
resentful.  He  heard  her  draw  a  quivering  breath 
— saw  the  other  hand  raised  to  hide  her  face. 

"Little  girl — little  girl!"  he  whispered.  In 
spite  of  his  vow  he  was  about  to  stake  all  his 
worldly  happiness,  like  any  gambler,  upon  this 
single  throw. 

Then  came  sounds  from  the  house — the  light 
from  a  door  flung  open.  Others  were  coming. 
He  would  be  seen.  He  drew  back  instantly. 

Released,  the  white  figure  turned  and  sped  up 
the  path.  His  chance — the  chance  he  would  never 
allow  himself  again — had  flown.  And  with  it 
poor  Dick  Holly  saw  the  last  years  of  his  youth 
also  vanish. 

In  spite  of  his  hidden  agonies  he  followed  in, 
after  an  interval,  and  came  upon  the  family. 

Under  the  light  of  the  center-lamp  Mr.  Scanlan 
Blondelli,  absorbed  in  calculations,  was  breathing 
hard  over  a  problem  having  a  pig  as  the  unknown 
quantity.  On  the  other  side  of  the  table  Alta- 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   107 

mont,  in  spectacles,  was  methodically  reading  the 
Dictionary,  his  markers  showing  that  he  had  pro 
gressed  as  far  as  "  Cat  to  Catapult."  Facing  each 
other  at  opposite  ends  of  the  sofa  Mrs.  Ajax  and 
Mr.  Peters,  who  seemed  to  be  renewing  his  youth, 
sat  thoroughly  at  ease. 

"  And  you  say  you  were  once  a  really  Mor 
mon?"  Imogene  was  asking  in  awed  tones. 

"  Just  in  my  mind,  I  was,"  Mr.  Peters  explained 
with  a  deprecatory  cough,  while  he  crossed  his 
bony  knees  and  rolled  his  eyes  ceilingwards.  "  I 
Jiggered  I  could  be  as  Mormonish  as  I  pleased  that- 
a-way.  Y'u  see,  if  y'u  believe,  why  y'u  believe — 
but  if  y'u  don't  tell  anybody  y'u  don't  have  tu 
pay  anything  in  tu  the  Tithing  House." 

"  Tell  me  more  about  it,"  said  Imogene,  settling 
back  to  give  the  matter  undivided  attention. 
"Ever  since  I  papered  this  room  with  little  blue 
boats  floating  round  in  lakes  of  mayonnaise  sauce 
and  hid  up  your  friend  '  Nephi '  I've  felt  sort 
of  guilty  that  we  haven't  any  religion  sticking 
around.  Too  much  meat  in  these  hot  climates 
ain't  good  so  far  away  from  a  church.  The  only 
trouble  is,  I  don't  know  just  what  to  settle  on. 
Episcopals  are  lovely,  but  snobby — and  nobody's 
ever  sick,  so  we  couldn't  be  Christian  Scientists." 


io8   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

"  Oh,  don't  let's  be  Scientists,"  objected  Co- 
brita,  who  was  combing  out  a  fat,  white  dog  with 
one  hand  while  she  played  checkers  with  the  other. 
"  They're  always  saying  '  manifestation  of  error  ' 
when  you  know  perfectly  well  it  was  that  second 
piece  of  mince.  Make  Drybone  convert  us. 
Come  on!  Let's  be  Mormons!" 

"  I'd  just  as  lieve,"  said  Harry  across  the 
checker-board. 

"No,  sirree,  you  won't,"  retorted  his  fiancee. 
"  But  you  can  be  a  Baptist  if  you  like." 

'  What — in  a  desert — twenty  miles  between 
water-holes?"  asked  Harry  doubtfully. 

!<  There's  a  whole  lot  more  tu  it  than  y'u  would 
figger,"  Drybone  stated  defensively.  "  From  what 
the  Bishop  of  Bull  Valley  Stake's  Second  Coun 
selor  told  me  I  should  say  it  offered  more  than 
most  any  religion  I  know.  He  said  that  any 
time  I  felt  my  abominations  risin'  up  fer  tu  choke 
me  off  from  my  crowns,  tu  send  him  word  by  a 
Piute,  and  he'd  ride  over  and  help  me  wrastle 
Satan." 

"  But  what  is  it  that  they  offer?  "  asked  Cobrita, 
curious  and  cautious. 

"Everything,"    responded    Drybone,    with    a 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   109 

strange  facial  contortion;  "  everything  y'u  want — 
in  the  future  life." 

A  puff  of  honeysuckle-sweetened  air  pulsed  in 
at  a  window  and,  with  a  far-away  look  in  her  eyes, 
a  slim,  white  figure  slipped  out  of  the  room  to  a 
corner  of  the  moonlit  veranda,  only  to  encounter 
there  one  surnamed  Richard.  Within,  the  voices 
of  the  seekers  after  Truth  murmured  on  in  a  con 
fused  drone,  which  rose  to  a  clamor  only  when 
Drybone  perpetrated  a  fresh  outrage. 

"  I  suppose  Imogene  is  about  right,"  the  man 
said  uncertainly,  when  he  saw  he  could  not  well 
withdraw.  "  We  are  probably  a  sinful  lot.  And 
yet  it  does  seem  hard  to  be  bad  on  a  desert — with 
no  one  else  around.  I  guess  a  Nevada  ranch 
would  make  a  good  summer  resort  for  the  Record 
ing  Angel — he  could  rest  here  undisturbed,  and 
pick  up  a  little  confidence  again.  But  it  might  be 
too  lonely  for  him,  after  all.  Probably  he  would 
get  the  loco." 

"What  is  the  loco?"  the  girl  asked  simply. 

The  man  put  his  whims  away  and  searched  his 
memory. 

"  It  seems  to  come  from  silence — or  heat — or 
thirst  or  loneliness,"  he  said  thoughtfully.  "  It's 
a  kind  of  insanity,  I  suppose.  Sometimes  it's  vio- 


no  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

lent,  and  yet  at  other  times  violence  would  be 
your  worst  enemy.  It  only  comes  to  you  on  the 
desert.  Young  men  get  it  from  taking  long 
chances  against  the  sun,  or  too  much  whisky.  Old 
men  get  it  from  moping  over  things  they  did  once, 
or  more  often  didn't  do.  It  makes  you  like  the 
sun  and  the  sand  and  the  silent  places  because  you 
hate  everything  else  in  the  world  and  yourself 
worst  of  all." 

"  What  a  very  horrible  thing,"  the  girl  re 
sponded  in  a  troubled  voice.  She  saw  now  that 
the  great  gray  stretches  she  had  often  crossed  in 
the  train  might  have  another  meaning  than  that 
of  a  passing  interval  of  dust  and  discomfort. 
Even  the  soft-hued  basin  below  the  ranch  began 
to  take  on  a  disturbing  form.  Perhaps  those 
glorious  crimson  buttes  which  flamed  across  the 
valley  each  morning  at  her  window  had  a  sterner 
message  to  convey.  As  she  saw  the  face  oppo 
site  grow  grave  she  knew  that  while  the  desert 
had  given  this  man  of  its  bounty,  yet  he  had  never 
underestimated  its  dangers.  As  he  spoke,  it  as 
sumed  the  shape  of  a  slow,  implacable  enemy — 
he  seemed  to  consider  it  an  almost  personal  foe. 
His  voice  dropped  to  a  lower  key.  He  began 
to  tell  a  story. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX    in 

"  A  few  years  ago  a  man  with  a  pair  of  burros 
came  through  here  from  Moab  and  stopped  for 
a  day  to  rest.  He  was  a  thin,  stoop-shouldered 
man,  with  a  brown  mustache  and  hollow  cheeks. 
He  wore  gold-rimmed  spectacles  and  coughed  a 
good  deal.  He  looked  like  a  locksmith,  out  of 
a  job.  He  sat  there  on  the  steps  all  one  morn 
ing  and  told  me  his  story. 

"  He  said  he'd  been  peddling  a  patent  mouse 
trap  at  back-doors  in  Kansas  and  Nebraska  for 
some  months  past,  but  hadn't  done  much.  He 
said  that  a  man  had  told  him  about  this  Western 
country  and  he'd  decided  to  come  out  here  and 
try  mining.  And  so  he'd  come,  riding  the  rods 
and  the  blind  baggage  and  walking,  so  as  to  save 
his  money. 

"I  asked  him  what  a  vein  looked  like,  but  he 
couldn't  exactly  tell.  He  only  said  he  knew  he'd 
know  one  if  he  saw  it. 

"  I  noticed  that  he  kept  saying  that  he  had  to 
hitrry.  *  I've  got  to  hurry,'  he'd  say.  *  My  wife 
and  daughter,  now — they  ain't  very  well  fixed. 
It'll  take  more  than  a  mouse-trap  this  time,  the 
way  I'm  feeling.  I've  got  to  find  a  mine.' 

"  I  tried  to  get  him  to  look  around  over  in  the 
Silver  Mountain  country  where  there's  more 


ii2   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

water  than  there  is  here — but  he  wouldn't  do  it. 
You  see,  he  was  a  city  fellow. 

"  *  I'm  going  to  try  this  Amargosa  Desert/  he 
said,  coughing  and  squinting  up  at  me  with  a  wise 
look.  '  I've  been  studying  it  out  on  my  little  map 
and  it  don't  look  as  if  there  was  anyone  there.' 

"  *  No.  They  came  back.  A  few  stayed'  I 
said. 

"'Oh!  Did  they?1  he  said,  brightening  up. 
1  Then  maybe  I'll  meet  'em  down  there.' 

"  Before  he  went  I  took  the  name  of  the  town 
where  his  family  lived.  Of  course,  I  ought  to 
have  done  something  more  than  that,  but  I  didn't. 
You  see,  I  was  foolish.  I  was  letting  his  sureness 
about  things  make  me  mad. 

"  Two  months  afterwards  he  came  back  and  I 
found  him  filling  up  at  the  ditch.  He  was  tuckered 
out.  He'd  lost  both  his  burros  and  had  come  it 
alone  the  last  week.  But  he  said  he'd  located  his 
claims  just  the  same,  and  gave  me  the  notices  to 
have  recorded  for  him.  They  were  strung  out 
along  a  big,  red  vein  on  the  side  of  a  blue  moun 
tain.  You  could  see  the  vein  for  miles  and  miles, 
he  said. 

u  I  took  a  look  at  his  samples.  They  were 
porphyry — just  plain,  ordinary  porphyry.  I  did- 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX    113 

n't  say  much.  I  asked  him  how  he  lost  his  burros. 
He  looked  at  me  in  a  queer  way  and  then  he 
whispered  that  they'd  been  taken  up  to  Heaven 
harnessed  to  a  chariot  of  fire. 

"  Of  course,  then  I  ought  to  have  understood. 
I  ought  to  have  watched  the  poor  fellow.  I  ought 
to  have  taken  care  of  him.  But  I  didn't.  In 
stead,  I  sat  down  on  that  fallen  cottonwood  by 
the  corral  and  started  to  read  his  notices.  You 
see,  I  was  mighty  mean — for  the  second  time. 
And  while  I  was  sitting  there  he  crept  up  behind 
and  convinced  me  of  it.  They  said  he  used  a 
stick  of  wood " 

"  Oh!  "  gasped  Clarice.  "  Did  he  really  try 
to  kill  you?  Didn't  it  hurt  terribly?" 

"  Yes.  It  hurt,"  he  admitted  frankly.  "  But  it 
hurt  more  the  next  day — out  in  the  sun — when 
we  were  following  him." 

"  You  mean — he  ran  away." 

"  Yes,  ma'am — walked  and  ran.  He  got  as 
far  as  the  Dry  Lake — that's  forty  miles.  He  did 
n't  know  where  he  was  going,  or  why.  I  guess 
he  was  figuring  that  he  had  to  '  hurry.'  ' 

Holly  began  to  pause  between  his  sentences.  He 
puffed  hard  on  his  cigar.  "  We  knew  pretty  well 
how  it  would  be  long  before  we  came  up  with  him. 


ii4  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

Along  about  evening  we  found  a  shirt — and  then 
a  pair  of  shoes.  A  mile  or  so  farther  on  we  picked 
up  his  overalls.  Perhaps  we  wouldn't  have  found 
him  even  then  if  it  hadn't  been  for  the  Lake.  It 
was  nice  and  smooth  there.  We  could  see  from 
the  marks  where  he  lay  that  he'd  stopped  to 
dance." 

Holly  shook  his  head  and  puffed  out  his  cheeks. 
"  HOH !  "  he  said,  and  threw  the  cigar  away  into 
the  darkness.  "It  was  pretty  bad." 

With  her  dark  head  laid  against  a  pillar,  the 
girl  stared  out  in  the  direction  of  the  vague,  violet 
plain.  The  moonlight  fell  whitely  across  her  face, 
adding  soft  curves  to  her  cheek  and  fresh  young 
lips  and  glistening  liquidly  in  her  eyes.  Still 
under  the  spell  of  the  sober  voice  she  was  con 
structing  the  scene  for  herself,  peopling  the  veiled 
desert  with  strange,  tragic  figures. 

She  seemed  to  be  down  there,  where  he  had 
been,  in  the  gray-green  waste,  where  the  dust- 
whirls  reeled  to  and  fro,  but  only  as  the  spectator 
of  activities  in  some  cruel  dream.  As  if  she  were 
standing  on  the  edge  of  a  stage,  she  saw  the  figures 
passing,  the  scenes  shifting. 

She  was  conscious  of  a  world  flooded  with 
heat  which  refracted  on  her  from  every  angle. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   115 

Hot  and  glaring,  the  red-banded  buttes  moved 
into  their  places.  Overhead,  an  infinite  blue  dome 
crackled  and  twinkled.  A  choke  of  dust  came  up 
in  her  throat,  and  she  felt  the  poignant  sting  of 
cactus  against  her  feet.  Like  a  breath  from  a 
furnace  a  hot  wind  puffed  up  and  seared  her  cheek. 
Far  off  in  the  purple  lap  of  the  ranges  a  dry  lake 
glittered  with  malignant  enchantment. 

Across  this  scene  came  men,  bronzed  and  fur 
row-faced.  Noiselessly  stooping  and  searching, 
rising  again  to  peer  from  under  their  sheltering 
hands  at  the  footprints  in  the  alkaline  crust,  they 
as  silently  flitted  away  again. 

And  now,  in  their  place,  crawling  covertly 
through  the  sage  brush  on  its  hands  and  knees, 
came  a  fearful  figure.  Sanity  had  long  since  de 
parted  from  the  eyes  which  burned  out  of  the 
blackened  face  but,  for  that  matter,  neither 
was  there  any  despair, — unless  animals  despair. 
Disheveled,  inhuman,  the  man  rose  to  his  feet 
and  glared  about  him.  His  thickened  tongue 
lolled  from  his  mouth,  his  eyes  were  wild  and 
bloodshot.  His  cracked  lips,  drawn  tight  against 
the  gums,  were  parted  in  a  perpetual  snarl. 

The  shimmer  of  the  lake  attracted  him  and  he 
stared  blankly  at  the  deception,  not  deigning  to 


n6  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

shield  his  eyes.  Then  a  last  flicker  of  intelligence 
passed  through  his  mind.  He  seemed  to  co-ordi 
nate  his  thirst  with  the  distant  prospect.  He 
threw  up  his  arms,  with  a  croaking  shout,  and 
rushed  forward. 

A  grotesque  shape  flitted  across  the  yellow 
floor  of  the  lake.  Smirking  and  posturing  in 
naked  contentment,  it  danced  in  jiggling  sil 
houette  against  the  eye  of  the  sun.  Here  it  spun 
wildly  and  there  it  glided  with  mincing  step  until, 
after  a  time,  it  tired  of  play — and  laid  itself  down, 
its  head  on  its  arms — to  rest  from  dancing — until 
the  morrow. 

And  always  before  her,  through  the  long,  hot 
day,  a  grim-visaged  man  rode  on  horseback,  a 
crimsoned  bandage  about  his  head. 

"  And  yet  I  like  it,"  the  girl  said  in  a  low  voice. 
"  To  me,  the  desert  seems  to  suit  two  kinds  of 
people — very  little  ones  who  like  to  grow  smaller 
— and  very  big  ones,  who  only  grow  bigger.  I 
don't  know  which  I  am,  but  I  like  it,  anyway. 
And  I'm  not  afraid." 

She  paused  and  turned  her  soft-eyed  look. 

"What  became  of  the  man's  family?" 

Holly  stirred  uneasily. 

"  The  mother  wrote  after  a  while,"  he  replied 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   117 

briefly,  almost  curtly,  when  it  was  plain  that  he 
must  answer.  "  They  were  going  back  East — to 
some  friends  of  theirs,  she  said." 

"  Back  East!"  the  girl  repeated  in  a  frightened 
whisper.  "  Why,  isn't  this  a  curious  story ! 
Where  in  the  East?" 

"  Illinois,  if  I  remember."  He  seemed  averse 
to  saying  more. 

"  But  they  had  no  means,"  Clarice  objected, 
and  absorbed  his  vision  with  her  own.  A  thrill 
shot  through  her,  tingling  out  to  her  extremities. 
As  if  she  were  at  a  play,  she  began  to  see  the  cur 
tain  stealing  up  on  a  drama  with  an  unsuspected 
caste. 

"  Perhaps  someone  bought  the  claims,"  he  of 
fered  vaguely,  helplessly. 

"Who  bought  the  claims?"  persisted  the 
frowning  girl. 

"  Drybone,  I  understand,"  he  answered 
brazenly,  and  then  as  suddenly  quailed.  "  But 
perhaps  some  fellow  loaned  him  the  money." 

"  I  am  certain  of  it,"  the  girl  replied  and  looked 
away.  When  had  there  been  a  man  like  this,  and 
what  did  his  story  mean?  There  had  been  a 
time  in  the  long  ago,  she  remembered,  when  her 
mother  had  somehow  acquired  means  to  pay  their 


n8   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

debts  and  take  them  away  from  their  Western 
home,  but  was  it  possible  that  there  was  a  con 
nection  between  these  two  things?  Her  eyes 
dropped  to  the  heavy  yellow  ring  on  her  hand 
and  she  fell  to  turning  it  nervously  round  her 
finger.  Puzzled  and  upset,  with  the  old  discontent 
over  her  unsatisfactory  antecedents  in  no  way 
lessened  by  this  dreadful  possibility,  she  raised 
her  eyes  to  his — and  was  shocked  by  the  sudden 
change  in  his  face. 

He  was  staring  open-mouthed  at  the  ring  on 
her  finger,  his  hand  going  out  towards  hers  with 
an  impulsive  movement — an  inarticulate  sound  of 
dismay  in  his  throat.  The  surprise  which  was 
written  in  every  feature  seemed  to  verge  on  hor 
ror.  The  girl  felt  as  if  his  convulsive  movement 
had  been  to  clutch  her  back  from  some  unseen 
danger.  Then  the  look  passed  and  he  drew 
back  into  the  shadow,  too  late,  however,  to  pre 
vent  her  reading  what  had  passed  through  his 
mind. 

Clarice  felt  her  heart  grow  icy  cold.  Just  as 
clearly  as  if  he  had  taken  the  mate  to  her  ring 
from  his  pocket  and  told  her  whose  hand  had 
worn  it,  she  knew  why  that  look  of  dismay  and 
dread  had  fastened  itself  on  his  face.  The  man 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   119 

of  the  story  told  in  an  idle  moment  for  her  diver 
sion,  the  vague-ideaed  searcher  for  the  rainbow's 
pot  of  gold,  the  crazed  figure  of  the  dry  lake,  the 
man  who  had  crept  up  behind  another  with  a 
stick  of  wood,  had  been  the  one  who  was  going 
to  make  her  new  hopes  in  life  secure. 

There  was  no  need  to  puzzle  over  his  sudden 
silence  now.  Somewhere  in  the  story's  telling 
the  puzzle  had  pieced  itself  together  for  him  after 
all  these  years,  and  immediately  the  wonderful 
kindness  that  seemed  to  detect  pain  as  quickly  as 
a  mother,  had  been  wrapped  around  her  to  shield 
her  from  further  distress.  Probably  he  was  right 
in  not  telling  more — he  was  right  in  most  things. 
If  he  thought  there  was  nothing  to  be  gained  by 
more  disclosures  she  would  abide  by  his  judg 
ment. 

With  her  mind  filled  with  anguish,  the  girl 
wondered  how  it  all  would  end.  And  this  illimi 
table  bounty,  on  which  they  all  existed,  and  which 
she  had  been  trying  to  return  as  well  as  she  might, 
now  held  her  the  more  firmly  in  its  debt,  for  it 
had  been  begun  when  she  was  only  a  child.  A 
spasm  of  helplessness  before  such  undefiable 
forces  crossed  her  face.  Despondency  began  to 
clutch  again  at  her  heart. 


120  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

But  during  the  short  moment  while  the  girl's 
startled  eyes  enveloped  his,  Dick  Holly's  thoughts 
were  racing  down  another  channel.  Of  the  two 
he  was  the  more  distressed,  for  he  remembered 
only  too  well  who  had  worn  the  mate  to  the  ring 
glittering  before  him  in  the  moonlight.  The  fact 
that  nothing  was  known  about  the  man  only  made 
matters  worse.  Macklin  was  said  to  carry  the 
miner's  card  of  a  Colorado  "  local,"  but  none  of 
the  Cripple  Creekers  knew  him,  and  the  Butte 
men  likewise  shook  their  heads.  He  had  left  no 
tangible  impress  on  the  Desert  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  he  and  Drew  had  been  prospectors  together, 
for  he  had  no  friends  among  those  coming  from 
down  Searchlight  way,  nor  from  the  copper  mines 
of  the  Salt  Lake  Basin.  While  it  seemed  well- 
nigh  impossible  that  the  teamster  of  those  many 
years  gone  by  could  ever  have  become  the 
father  of  the  sweet-eyed  girl  beside  him,  yet 
Dick  Holly  could  not  omit  it  from  his  calcula 
tions. 

He  could  see,  now,  that  his  plans  were  going 
to  face  right  about.  There  was  no  time  for  pay 
ing  off  old  grudges  while  this  girl's  happiness  lay 
in  the  balance.  Macklin  would  have  to  be  got 
out  of  the  country  and  it  would  have  to  be  done 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   121 

quickly.  Two  weeks  gave  him  little  enough  time 
as  it  was,  and  when  the  Sheriff  once  took  hold 
of  the  case  no  favors  would  be  asked  or  granted. 
If  Jake  had  the  evidence,  Atlas  or  no  Atlas, 
friends  or  no  friends,  the  man  who  had  shot 
Danny  Drew  in  the  back  would  be  hanged  as  high 
as  Haman. 

Sitting  there  in  the  shadow  and  half-ashamed 
to  read  in  her  pitifully  strained  face  a  belief 
which  he  could  not  remove,  he  felt  a  wave  of 
compassion  sweep  over  him.  He  managed  an  ap 
proach  to  her  along  the  railing.  To-morrow 
would  be  another  day,  as  the  Mexicans  said.  Time 
enough  then  for  the  work  in  hand.  Just  now  he 
meant  to  cheer  her  up. 

"  About  that  Polly  horse  you  mostly  ride,"  he 
began.  "  I've  been  thinking  lately  it  would  feel 
a  lot  better  if  it  belonged  just  to  you.  These 
ranch-hands  sometimes  teach  a  young  horse  bad 
tricks.  It  would  be  safer  if  you'd  take  her  for 
your  really  own." 

"  No,  thank  you,"  said  Clarice. 

"Ma'am!"  he  ejaculated  blankly. 

"  No,  thank  you!  "  the  girl  repeated.  The  soft 
white  throat  that  he  could  see  so  well  in  the  moon 
light  began  to  work  as  if  something  were  hard  to 


122  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

swallow.  Her  full  lower  lip  was  quivering  help 
lessly.  "  I  can't  take  her — I  can't  take  your  pony. 
I  mean  I  could,  but  I  won't!  You  give  away 
everything"  she  said  hotly,  with  brimming  eyes. 
"  You  just  give  and  give  and  give.  And  all  we 
do  is  live  here  on  your  money.  I  won't  do  it  any 
longer." 

"  Why,  I  didn't  want  to  sell  the  little  horse," 
he  said  despairingly.  "  I  just  wanted  to  loan  her 
away  for  keeps  where  she'd  have  good " 

"  Treatment,"  supplied  Clarice,  with  a  choke. 
"  From  a  cheap  acrobat! " 

There  was  no  coquetry  in  the  tones.  The 
words  had  been  meant  to  cut  and  hurt.  With  a 
complete  reversal  of  feeling  the  girl  was  now  in 
sulting  the  very  pride  which  had  made  her  refuse 
his  gift.  It  was  a  drastic  method  of  preventing 
further  offerings,  perhaps,  but  not  so  illogical  as 
may  seem.  The  truth  was  that  Clarice  had  come 
to  feel  herself  at  a  hopeless  disadvantage. 

Just  when  or  whence  had  come  this  fearful 
thing  some  people  called  Love,  but  which  the  girl 
thought  was  closer  to  Anguish,  she  did  not  know. 
It  had  crept  upon  her  insidiously,  undermining  the 
barrier  of  her  reserve,  less  by  one  swift  assault 
than  by  a  multitude  of  approaches  through  dis- 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   123 

used  fields,  and  now  that  its  meaning  was  revealed 
she  suddenly  weakened  and  retreated  before  what 
she  thought  was  an  immensely  superior  force.  In 
effect,  Clarice,  having  fallen  in  love,  was  passing 
through  the  tortures  of  self-depreciation,  not  less 
ened  by  the  knowledge  which  she  had  gained  in 
the  few  moments  past. 

Sick  with  the  tumult  of  her  feelings,  the  girl 
tried  to  think  of  some  means  of  escape,  but  since 
cold-blooded  flight  was  impossible,  she  could  only 
keep  her  eyes  turned  away.  The  blood  surged 
hotly  into  her  cheeks  as  the  idiocy  of  her  last 
remark  quickly  came  back  to  her.  She  could  see 
now  that  all  was  over.  She  would  have  none  but 
herself  to  blame  if  she  lost  his  respect  by  throw 
ing  away  her  own.  Apparently  her  best  endeavors 
to  be  sincere  and  womanly  were  to  be  thwarted, 
after  all,  by  this  vice  of  her  nature  which  had  so 
surprisingly  blossomed  forth.  Then  she  stole  a 
look  at  his  face  and  saw  that  he  was  only  badly 
puzzled. 

"  But  I'll  take  care  of  her,  myself"  he  was 
saying.  "  Those  acrobats  have  got  their  hands  full 
now.  You  can  ride  her  just  as  hard  as  you  like — 
don't  worry  about  treatment.  Why,  I'll  feed 
Polly  and  water  her  with  my  own  Hands.  I'll 


i24  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

build  a  separate  corral  for  her,  too,  so  she  won't 
get  kicked.  Now  will  you  take  her?  " 

The  girl's  pulse  gave  a  quick  throb.  Not  only 
had  he  ceased  to  connect  her,  except  vaguely,  with 
the  circus,  but  that  which  she  had  feared  most,  the 
man  with  the  stick  of  wood,  seemed  to  have  been 
thrust  angrily  out  of  mind  as  quickly  as  he  had  come 
in.  Perhaps  there  would  be  a  chance  for  her  yet ! 
It  was  hard  for  the  redoubtable  Blondellis  to  be 
classed  as  "  cheap  acrobats,''  but  there  would  be 
no  explanations  now.  Up,  Eros !  Down,  Mars ! 
Pride  had  some  rights,  after  all. 

"Yes!  Yes!  I'll  take  Polly,"  she  gasped, 
still  a  little  afraid  her  sin  would  find  her  out. 
"  Drybone  says  I  can  go  down  on  the  flat  with 
them  to-morrow  and  watch  them  catch  wild 
horses." 

"  Catch  one  yourself,"  he  urged.  "  You're  a 
born  rider.  You'd  make  a  good  vaquero." 

Her  eyes  kindled.  She  was  a  good  rider,  she 
knew,  and  the  spice  of  danger  she  had  scented  was 
calling.  But  she  only  smiled  wisely  and  shook 
her  sleek  head.  No  more  of  the  old  life  for 
Clarice — nor  of  anything  that  savored  of  it.  No 
more  of  taking  chances.  God  willing,  she  was  go 
ing  to  be  a  lady — as  her  mother  had  been. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   125 

Once  more  the  soft  darkness  wrapped  them 
round,  and  in  the  silence  her  delicious  nearness 
and  the  scent  of  honeysuckle  which  seemed  her 
own,  worked  their  spell. 

Once  more  Dick  Holly  forgot  the  years  and  his 
eyes  yearned  and  yearned  at  her  out  of  his  be 
seeching  face,  and  his  hand  stole  nearer  till  it 
covered  her  own. 

Drawn  by  his  power,  the  sweet  dark  eyes  rose 
at  last  to  his,  though  her  cheek  had  mantled  with 
a  burning  tide.  So  close  were  they  that  for  him, 
the  whole  world  of  sight  and  sound  seemed  to 
fade  away  and  leave  only  a  perfect  silence — with 
her  still  more  perfect  face  and  soft  mouth  helpless 
before  his  own. 

Yet  it  was  not  to  be,  and  in  another  moment 
he  had  controlled  himself.  The  sound  of  the  tele 
phone  bell  in  the  office  had  come  to  them,  and 
before  he  knew  it  the  exquisite  flower  of  her  lips 
and  the  soft  cheek  and  lovely,  supple  body  ex 
isted  no  more  for  him  on  that  moon-enchanted 
veranda  than  in  a  vanished  dream. 

"  A  telegram  from  Philadelphia,"  he  heard  her 
voice  repeating.  "  Very  well,  I'm  ready,"  and  her 
pencil  began  to  move  across  the  pad  on  her  table. 


126  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

''  Will  reach  Ami  on  the  tenth  with  wife,  son,  niece, 
and  four  trunks.  Can  you  meet  us? 

"  OSGOOD  WARDER." 

" Great  Grief!"  ejaculated  the  ranchman,  com 
ing  into  the  room  with  distress  in  every  feature. 
"  And  we  were  all  so  happy !  " 


CHAPTER  VII 

"  OSGOOD/'  said  Mrs.  Warder  speculatively, 
"  do  you  really  suppose  J.  Gardner  Paul  would 
have  loaned  us  his  private  car  now  that  youVe 
taken  his  asphalt  bonds  back  again?" 

"  Possibly — possibly,"  her  husband  replied, 
with  the  glint  of  an  eye  from  under  his  traveling- 
cap.  "  But  what's  the  matter  with  existing  accom 
modations,  Charlotte?  Do  you  really  think  that 
chef  that  J.'s  so  chesty  about  would  do  any  better 
by  us  than  these  Afro-Pullmans?  I  don't  know 
how  you  feel  about  it,  but  /  think  this  observation 
platform  is  just  about  right,"  with  which  remark 
Warder  pere  unbuttoned  his  vest  and  stretched  out 
a  prehensile  foot  for  a  campstool. 

His  wife  adjusted  her  glasses,  with  their  pendent 
gold  chain,  and  peered  anxiously  at  her  husband. 
Something  akin  to  despair  settled  on  her  full, 
gray  face,  with  its  double  chin.  Fatal  evidence 
was  accumulating  that  Warder  pere  had  decided 
to  like  the  free-and-easy  West.  In  Denver  he 
had  cut  squarely  across  the  canons  of  fashion  in  a 
black  silk  shirt.  In  the  Royal  Gorge,  he  had  per- 

127 


128   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

sistently  chummed  with  a  brakeman.  The  brake- 
man  knew  how  high  everything  was,  and  where  it 
flowed  after  it  left  here,  and  the  approximate  ton 
nage — for  which  certainly  useless  information  he 
had  been  given  an  unnecessary  quantity  of  cigars. 
To  make  matters  worse,  her  husband  had  totally 
disappeared  in  Salt  Lake  City  for  several  anxious 
hours,  and  had  finally  been  detected  standing  on 
the  curbstone  shamelessly  eating  things  out  of 
a  paper  bag!  Later  on,  he  was  discovered 
absorbing  knowledge  along  the  streets  from  tan- 
faced  persons  with  undignified  felt  hats,  standing 
with  feet  wide-spread  and  thumbs  hooked  in  his 
vest,  saying,  "  Well,  well !  You  certainly  surprise 

me !     I  confess  I  had  no  idea " 

But  the  defection  of  the  Warder  family,  un 
fortunately,  had  not  ended  there,  for  Biddle  War 
der  had  disappeared  into  the  chair-car  ahead  that 
morning  and  refused  to  come  out.  It  was  not 
quite  clear  to  his  mother  as  to  what  Biddle  had 
found  there,  but  Amy  Radnor  had  been  approached 
on  one  of  the  station  platforms  by  a  frank  young 
person,  with  an  all-too-perfect  coiffure,  who  was 
on  her  way  to  Portlandoregon  to  be  married  at 
once  to  a  very  rich  lumberman,  and  did  Amy 
think  that  Eastern  men  were  quite  sincere?  Upon 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   129 

Amy's  nervously  expressed  belief  in  male  sincerity 
the  thankful  young  person  had  kissed  her  twice, 
pressed  half  a  sticky  orange  into  her  hand,  intro 
duced  her  to  three  perfect  gentlemen  in  the  boot- 
and-shoe  line  and  joyously  re-entered  the  chair- 
car.  The  boot-and-shoe  men  had  later  endeavored 
to  force  a  passage  through  to  Amy's  section,  but 
had  been  repulsed  with  slaughter. 

"  Osgood,"  said  his  wife,  with  a  touch  of 
solemnity,  "  do  you  realize  that  we  have  not  seen 
a  copy  of  The  Ledger  since  we  left  Jenkin- 
town?" 

"  Good  job,  too,"  her  husband  replied  unfeel 
ingly,  and  puffed  cigar-smoke  from  the  corner  of 
his  mouth.  "  You  read  too  much — we  all  read 
too  much.  You  don't  catch  these  chaps  out  here 
doing  it.  By  George!"  he  exclaimed  enthusi 
astically.  "  Isn't  that  a  splendid  sight  over  there? 
See  that  bright  red  hill  backed  up  against  a  pur 
ple  mountain!  Sniff  that  air,  Charlotte?  A  fel 
low  told  me  we'd  be  up  six  thousand  feet  by 
noon!  " 

Osgood  Warder  crossed  his  feet  on  the  camp- 
stool  and  settled  back  to  solid  enjoyment.  The 
feet  were  entirely  comfortable  in  soft,  square- 
toed  Oxfords  and  loose,  white  socks,  and  his  cigar 


130  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

was  the  best  his  club  could  supply.  The  air  about 
him  was  redolent  with  an  exhilarating,  woody 
scent  that  seemed  to  mingle  its  tonic  with  his 
blood.  He  had  not  felt  so  blissfully  juvenile  in 
years. 

He  was  a  white-haired,  florid  little  man  and 
rather  square  and  chunky,  with  a  protuberance 
immediately  below  the  belt-line,  such  as  might 
have  been  caused  by  swallowing  a  large-sized 
canteloupe.  His  eye  was  a  reserved,  almost  dull, 
blue  and  occasionally  he  had  only  a  firm  slit  for 
a  mouth.  Somehow,  one  knew  that  his  associates 
in  business  would  also  be  stout  and  pinkly 
groomed.  They  would  be  mask-faced  men, 
with  difficult  eyes,  experts  in  "  coalers  "  and  the 
necessary  politics,  who  pushed  buttons  in  flat- 
topped  desks  and  "  affixed  "  signatures.  They, 
also,  would  have  slits  for  mouths. 

But  with  it  all  there  was  a  decidedly  saving  sense 
of  humor  in  Osgood  Warder,  and  a  surfeit  of 
one  kind  of  life,  for  he  was  now  evincing  an  inter 
est  in  how  the  other  fellow  "  made  it."  Although 
perfectly  immune  in  the  long  run  to  anything  but 
the  deadly  certain  manipulations  of  his  own  clique, 
he  was  taking  a  chortling,  boyish  delight  in  a  few 
harmless  speculations.  As  to  his  venture  in  Yel- 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   131 

low  Dog  stock,  a  very  few  minutes'  attention  to 
the  ranchman's  arguments  had  convinced  him  that 
here  was  a  winning  chance,  and  he  was  now  on 
his  half-amused  way  to  see  where  he  had  put  his 
money. 

"  I'm  very  glad  you  like  the  scenery,  my  dear," 
his  wife  remarked.  "  Probably  it  reminds  you  of 
something — I  think  most  things  do.  Does  this 
gold-mine  person  live  all  alone  on  his  farm?  " 

"  All  alone,"  her  husband  replied.  "  I  believe 
he  did  say  something  about  4  Indians,'  but  I  didn't 
pay  much  attention  to  it." 

"  Of  course  not,  dear,"  his  wife  retorted  trem 
ulously.  "  You  were  thinking  only  about  gold. 
It  will  be  necessary  for  me  to  think  about  the  In 
dians  !  " 

"  I  understand  they're  not  bad  in  summer,"  was 
the  quizzical  reply.  "  Better  not  imagine  too 
many  difficulties,  Charlotte.  He'll  probably  make 
us  very  comfortable." 

"  I  fear  it  will  be  a  rough  and  savage  life,"  his 
wife  said  despairingly.  "  I  hope  that  Amy  real 
izes  by  this  time  what  is  expected  of  her." 

"  GREAT  SCOTT !  "  exclaimed  Warder,  with 
a  choke.  "  Is  that  why  you  brought  her?  " 

"Why    not?"    asked    Mrs.    Warder    stonily. 


132  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

"  Amy's  a  nobody — and  she's  twenty-nine! 
Sometimes  I  wish  other  people  saw  things  as 
clearly  as  I  do.  Have  you  any  well  thought  out 
plan  for  marrying  Amy  off  to  anyone,  Osgood?  " 

"  N-no,"  he  confessed,  and  rubbed  his  nose. 
"  I  can  frankly  say  I  have  not." 

"  Well,"  said  his  wife,  "  I  have." 

At  this  juncture  their  niece  appeared,  a  pretty 
but  painfully  thin  brunette,  with  intelligent  dark 
eyes  and  a  mobile  face.  As  she  did  not  lack  the 
self-effacing  air  of  the  poor  relation,  it  was  hard 
to  imagine  so  much  intelligence  furnishing  a  very 
heavy  cross  for  anyone  to  bear.  She  seemed  to  be 
the  type  of  physiqueless  but  interesting  girl 
doomed  to  go  through  life  carrying  an  old  lady's 
shawl,  and  yearned  after  by  romantic,  poor  young 
men  who  always  looked  back  but  never  followed. 

On  her  heels  came  Biddle  Warder,  well- 
dressed,  young,  and  confident;  not  lacking  in  fresh 
good  looks  or  in  brusque  determination  to  have 
whatever  he  principally  wanted  in  this  world. 
Biddle  had  been  in  business  with  his  father  for 
about  six  months,  during  which  time  his  stenog 
rapher  had  ridden  home  regularly  thrice  a  week 
on  the  rear  platform  of  the  tube  train  so  as  not 
to  proclaim  her  tears. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   133 

The  young  man  brushed  by  his  cousin  rather 
rudely  and  dropped  into  a  chair  by  his  father's 
side.  It  was  evident  to  the  women,  from  Biddle's 
cold,  forceful  air,  that  he  was  about  to  talk 
"  business." 

"  I've  just  been  talking  to  a  mining  man  I  met 
in  the  car  ahead,"  he  said  into  the  parental  ear, 
"  and  it  looks  to  me  as  if  he  had  a  pretty 
good  thing.  I  told  him  we'd  lately  gone  into 
mining,  and  finally  persuaded  him  to  tell  me 
about  it. 

"  It  seems  that  he's  been  working  for  years  and 
years  on  a  machine  for  concentrating  gold,  and 
just  got  it  perfected — last  week,  I  think  he  said. 
It's  what  he  calls  a  *  dry '  concentrator,  suitable 
for  just  such  regions  as  this.  He  says  he  got 
the  idea  when  he  saw  so  many  Easterners  with 
money  coming  out  here  to  take  up  these  proper 
ties  and  develop  them  the  way  they  really  ought 
to  be  developed.  I  must  say,  it  seems  like  a 
rather  costly  affair.  He  put  the  price  sky-high  at 
first,  but  I  jewed  him  down  a  lot,  let  me  state. 
Finally,  he  said  he'd  make  us  one  of  these  ma 
chines  for  ten  thousand  dollars — a  thousand  dol 
lars  down  and  a  thousand  every  thirty  days " 

"WHAT'S    THAT?"    barked    his    father, 


134  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

hastily  waking  up  at  the  mention  of  money. 
"When  will  he  deliver?  After  the  first  thou 
sand — or  the  last?" 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  heard  him  say,"  his  son 
replied,  conscious  that  perhaps  he  had  missed  a 
point. 

"  They  generally  don't"  Warder  remarked  suc 
cinctly.  "  It  sounds  like  a  stand-and-deliver  propo 
sition.  You  stand  until  he  wants  to  deliver.  Just 
how  did  this  wonderful  machine  work?  Did  he 
see  fit  to  disclose  its  operations?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Diddle  eagerly.  "He  drew 
me  a  picture  of  it.  It's  certainly  a  very  compli 
cated  thing — a  crushing  apparatus  on  top — and 
motors — and  a  lot  of  screens  and  belts  and  chutes. 
He  explained  it  to  some  sheep  men,  too,  who  all 
believed  in  it." 

"Oh!  They  did?"  and  a  satirical  light  glit 
tered  in  the  elder's  eye.  "  I  thought  it  sounded 
like  some  kind  of  a  separator." 

"  That's  it,"  his  son  said  eagerly.  "  It's  really 
an  electric  separator.  It  sifts  out  the  gold  and 
makes  it  stick  on  a  belt." 

"  I  didn't  know  you  could  attract  gold,"  War 
der  objected  doubtfully. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   135 

"  But  he  says  he  can,"  the  enthusiastic  Biddle 
retorted.  "  He  says  it's  merely  a  question  of 
magnetism." 

"  Now  I  feel  sure  of  it,"  was  his  father's  reply, 
as  he  replaced  his  feet  on  the  comfortable  camp- 
stool.  "  He  will  attract  his  gold  as  formerly — 
by  personal  magnetism.  You  didn't  sign  any 
thing,  I  hope?" 

"  W-e-e-1-1,"  faltered  the  young  man,  "  I 
bought  an  option  on  his  first  machine  for  a  hun 
dred  dollars." 

The  train  now  climbed  over  the  rim  of  the 
basin  and  dropped  swiftly  down  into  a  bigger, 
grayer  desert  than  any  that  had  gone  before.  On 
the  far-off  slopes  of  the  foothills  they  saw 
white  mine-dumps,  or  a  bare-boarded  bunk-house 
marooned  on  a  treeless  mountain-side.  They 
flashed  by  sidings  where  cars  of  ore  stood  waiting, 
and  saw  loads  of  unfamiliar  machinery  lying  on 
sun-bleached  platforms.  A  flock  of  sheep  fled 
bleating  away  over  the  plain,  and  they  glimpsed 
the  herders,  knee-deep  in  the  greasewood,  staring 
silently  at  the  train,  while  the  dogs  rounded  up  the 
animals. 

"  Gold  Center,  next,"  said  someone,  and  they 
searched  anxiously  for  the  metropolis.  It  con- 


136  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

sisted  of  some  tentative  streets,  a  water-tank,  a 
store,  and  two  saloons.  Prominent  in  the  land 
scape  was  a  twenty-foot  board  sign,  mounted  on 
two  posts,  "BUY  A  LOT  IN  GOLD 
CENTER." 

"How  very  silly,"  Mrs.  Warder  remarked 
peevishly.  "A  lot  of  what,  may  I  ask?  And 
there  isn't  any !  " 

"Ami,  next,"  the  brakeman  announced  from 
the  car-door.  "  It's  going  to  be  hot,  folkses. 
This  country  would  make  Phil  Sheridan  think 
Texas  was  a  cold-storage  warehouse." 

The  passengers  arose  and  assembled  their  lug 
gage.  In  the  interval  of  waiting,  Miss  Radnor 
found  her  aunt  seated  in  stiff  readiness  on  the 
edge  of  her  section,  a  look  of  unusual  pensiveness 
on  her  heavy  face. 

"  It  has  seemed  so  very  strange.  I  fear  I  shall 
never  become  used  to  it,"  she  was  saying,  half  to 
herself. 

"You  mean,  Aunt  Charlotte " 

"  To  find  so  many  people  living  so  far  from 
Philadelphia,"  her  aunt  replied. 

But  there  were  stranger  things  yet  to  happen, 
for  during  the  long  drive  to  the  ranch  Mrs.  War 
der  elicited  some  startling  information  from  the 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   137 

man  whom  her  short-sighted  husband  had  care 
lessly  taken  as  a  partner. 

As  they  first  sighted  the  ranch-house  from  the 
desert  below  Mrs.  Warder  was  heard  to  believe 
that  life  there  would  prove  rather  dreary.  Holly 
thought  of  the  ex-Pilkingtons  and  smiled. 

"  You  see,  ma'am,  there  are  more  than  two  of 
us  now.  There's  my  secretary,  for  one." 

"  Ah,  yes.     A  young  man  to  keep  the  books." 

"Well,  not  quite,"  he  confessed.  "  He— it- 
she's  a  young  lady.  She's  very  quick  at  figures," 
he  added,  as  if  to  ameliorate  a  condition  that,  for 
the  first  time,  seemed  to  require  defense. 

"Are  there  others?"  asked  Mrs.  Warder  in 
a  curious  tone  which  her  family  recognized  as  her 
"Associated  Charities  voice." 

"Yes,"  he  admitted.  "There's  the  cook. 
She's  a  lady,  too." 

Mrs.  Warder's  eyelids  rose  and  fell  over  a  swift 
glance  at  her  niece.  The  ranchman  saw  the  look 
and  grew  troubled. 

"  There's  still  another  lady,"  he  said  doggedly. 
"  I  don't  know  her  last  name,  but  she  has  snakes." 
He  began  to  feel  distressed  and  an  unstifled  yelp 
of  laughter  from  Biddle  didn't  help  matters. 

"  Are  these  all?  "  asked  Mrs.  Warder  so  coolly 


138   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

that  her  husband  waggled  his  hand  at  her,  be 
hind  his  back. 

Holly  saw  his  chance  and  gulped  down  his 
wrath. 

"  No,  ma'am,"  he  answered.  "  There  are  also 
two  Italians  who  are  Irishmen." 

Mrs.  Warder's  lip  drooped,  then  rose  as  if  to 
form  the  word  "SIR!" 

"  No  more,  I  hope,"  laughed  Warder  pere, 
faintly  perplexed  but  genial.  "  My  cigars  won't 
hold  out." 

The  ranchman's  smile  was  slow  but  reassuring. 

"  We're  safe,"  he  said.  "  The  Missing  Link 
doesn't  smoke." 

When,  some  time  later,  Mrs.  Warder  paused 
at  the  door  of  the  room  to  which  she  had  been 
guided,  she  found  Amy  Radnor  close  behind  her, 
and  a  look  from  the  older  woman  was  enough  to 
bring  the  girl  into  the  room. 

"  Lock  the  door  securely,  Amy,"  said  her  aunt, 
feeling  for  her  hatpins  and  looking  about  for  a 
mirror.  "  I  have  something  to  say  to  you." 

Amy  scrutinized  the  door.  u  There  isn't  any 
lock,"  she  said. 

"  Then  I  shall  say  it,  anyway,"  her  aunt  an 
nounced.  "  Please  help  me  off  with  my  boots,  and 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   139 

look  in  the  inside,  flap-pocket  of  the  black  Steiger- 
walt  hand-bag  and  see  if  you  can  find  the  key  to 
my  trunk.  I'm  sure  I  can't  conceive  how  the 
trunk  got  up  here.  Did  you  see  any  of  the  men 
bringing  it  up?  " 

"  I — I  think  it  was  carried  up  by  a  woman" 
Amy  faltered,  hesitating  on  her  knees  before  two 
fat,  dusty  boots.  "  I  thought  I  saw " 

"Most  improbable,"  her  aunt  said  finally. 
"  Now,  this  is  what  I  was  saying  when  you  inter 
rupted  me.  It's  plain  to  be  seen  that  your  uncle 
has  thoughtlessly  set  us  down  in  the  very  midst 
of  one  of  these  strange  Western  sects  that  we've 
read  so  much  about.  Nobody,  Amy — nobody 
knows  who  or  what  these  strange  women  may  be. 
They  may  be  Mormons.  They  may  be  Raja 
Yogas.  They  may  even  be  those  queer  Yama 
Yama  people  that  Biddle  knows  about.  But  at 
any  rate,  we  must  be  on  our  guard — and  we  must 
hold  ourselves  aloof!  " 

"  But  won't  that  be  rather  difficult?  "  her  niece 
objected  timidly,  as  she  thought  of  the  secretary's 
handclasp  and  her  pleasant  eyes.  "  Shall  I  also 
hold  myself  aloof  from  Mr.  Holly?" 

"  By  no  means,  dear,"  her  aunt  replied.  4<  In 
deed,  I  think  you  might  very  profitably  draw  him 


140  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

out  a  little  as  to  his  past  life.  He  is  evidently  a 
bizarre,  though  simple-minded  character.  Please 
don't  misunderstand  me,  Amy.  It  is  only  that  at 
my  time  of  life  I  do  not  feel  equal  to  bandying 
religious  argument  with  the  cook,  or  being  taught 
Theosophy  by  a  Missing  Link." 

While  it  is  not  improbable  that  Amy  long  re 
membered  her  relative's  remarks,  issued  in  the 
midst  of  her  alarms,  yet  an  amused  gleam  shone  in 
her  eyes  as  she  proceeded  towards  her  own  room. 
A  certain  secretiveness  in  humor  seemed  to  be 
Amy's  major  fault. 

"  You  won't  catch  me  aloofing  myself  from 
anyone  out  here  in  the  West,"  said  Amy  to  herself. 
u  I've  been  hidden  away  in  a  little  red-brick  house 
long  enough  as  it  is.  I'd  give  a  whole  lot  to 
have  that  snake  girl's  tan  on  my  face." 

On  the  threshold  she  hesitated  uncertainly,  but 
only  for  a  moment.  The  three  strange  women 
were  waiting  for  her,  side  by  side  on  her  bed.  As 
she  entered  the  Secretary-Lady  came  gracefully 
forward  and  helped  her  with  her  veil;  the  Snake- 
Lady  tendered  cologne;  the  Cook-Lady  unstrapped 
her  baggage.  A  sweet,  swift  smile  from  Amy  and 
their  tongues  were  unleashed.  With  a  sympa 
thetic,  thoroughly  feminine  rush,  they  surrounded 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   141 

her.  For  the  first  time  in  years  poor  Amy  Radnor 
found  herself  the  dazed  center  of  attraction,  with 
women's  soft  arms  around  her  and  women's  voices 
babbling  lovable  nonsense  in  her  ears. 

uAnd  NOW!"  said  Imogene,  with  a  pent-up 
squeal  of  joy.  "  Now  let's  see  what  this  Amy- 
girl's  got  in  her  trunk !  " 

As  may  be  inferred,  it  was  not  without  certain 
misgivings  that  Mrs.  Warder  entered  the  dining- 
room  at  the  call  of  the  triangle.  Finding,  how 
ever,  that  everyone  already  knew  everyone  else, 
she  accepted  the  introductions  with  lessened 
timidity.  Now  that  there  was  opportunity  to  ob 
serve,  it  seemed  futile  to  employ  a  Fabian  policy 
against  Cobrita's  doll-like  face  and  figure.  In 
any  event,  she  saw  that  her  husband's  concurrence 
could  hardly  be  relied  on,  for  he  had  come  on  to 
a  jovial  footing  with  everyone,  and  was  rapidly 
nearing  the  back-slapping  stage.  At  her  elbow, 
Amy  Radnor,  unmindful  of  instructions,  skir 
mished  boldly  with  the  gaunt  Mr.  Peters.  Turning 
to  Biddle  as  a  forlorn  hope,  she  found  him  frankly 
interested  in  the  secretary.  Mrs.  Warder  adjusted 
her  glasses  and  considered  the  young  person. 

Miss  Belvawney,  at  the  head  of  the  table,  was 
pouring  tea.  Even  under  the  appalling  scrutiny 


142   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

Miss  Belvawney  was  quite  self-possessed,  for  the 
tinge  of  color  in  her  creamy  cheek  sprang  less 
from  excitement  than  from  perfect  happiness. 
Fresh  and  dainty  in  a  starched  white  waist,  she 
was  sitting  behind  her  teacups  as  supple-wristed 
and  gracious  as  if  she  had  done  naught  else  in  all 
her  fair  young  life  but  assist  at  functions.  It 
was  a  far  cry  from  hanging  precariously  in  mid 
air  by  one's  toes  to  dropping  sugar  into  a  million 
aire's  teacup  and  asking  sweetly,  "  Two  lumps, 
or  three?  And  do  you  take  cream?"  At  least, 
so  thought  the  Belvawney  person,  and  so  thrilled 
with  the  delightfulness  of  her  position  that  her 
eyes  took  on  their  occasional  star-like  appearance, 
thus  innocently  misleading  the  interested  Biddle. 

"  Alas!  It  is  as  I  feared,"  thought  his  mother. 
"  She  is  a  beautiful  woman." 

At  that  moment  the  seat  opposite  Mrs.  Warder, 
which  until  now  had  remained  vacant,  was  sud 
denly  filled.  "  Listen  to  me,  people,"  said  the  new 
arrival.  "  No  more  beef-a-la-mode  till  cool 
weather  in  October.  It  gets  me  all  het  up." 

Turning  to  Mrs.  Warder,  the  strange  individual 
made  a  preliminary  offering.  "  I  hope  you  had  a 
nice  ride,"  she  said. 

"Rahther    dusty,    I'm    afraid,"    replied    Mrs. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX    143 

Warder  in  a  discouraging  tone,  looking  over  the 
tops  of  her  glasses.  "  Is  this  the  cook?" 

"  Not — not  the  regular  one,"  stammered  Imo- 
gene. 

"  No,"  smiled  Mrs.  Warder.  uNot  a  regular 
cook." 

"  Oh,  but  I  am,"  insisted  Imogene,  reddening. 
"  I'm  only  sort  of  helping  out " 

"  I  understand.  Merely  an  assistant.  But  you 
do  very  well.  I  feel  sure  you  will  learn  in  time. 
The  canned  things  make  it  so  much  easier.  What 
is  your  name,  Cook?  I  feel  as  if  I  ought  to  know 
everyone's  name,  here." 

"  Imogene,"  responded  the  Strong  Woman, 
pallid  with  wrath. 

"  What  a  lovely  name — what  a  beautiful  name, 
in  fact.  Surely  your  last  name  is  as  well  chosen." 

"  It's— it's  BOGGS !  "  exploded  Imogene,  and 
rising  from  her  chair  with  a  quivering  lip,  she 
rushed  back  to  the  kitchen. 

"  Rather  precipitate,"  Mrs.  Warder  murmured 
vaguely  to  Amy,  who,  besides  Drybone,  was  the 
only  one  who  had  overheard. 

"  Rather  rude,"  answered  Amy,  with  similar 
vagueness,  and  smiled  blandly  on  the  silent  Mr. 
Peters. 


144  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

The  sound  of  oven  doors  slammed  shut  came 
from  the  kitchen,  and  the  strange  woman  appeared 
in  the  doorway.  Although  she  held  her  arms 
valiantly  akimbo,  two  hot  tears  hopped  out  of  her 
eyes  and  rolled  down  her  plump  cheeks. 

"  Dessert's  coming  up,"  she  announced  tremu 
lously.  "  M-m-make  your  bets  with  the  Wild 
Man.  Slat  Pie  or  Spotted  Pup !  " 

It  cannot  be  said  that  all  of  the  company  were 
fully  at  their  ease  for  the  next  few  minutes. 
Vaguely,  but  none  the  less  uncomfortably,  Mr. 
Warder,  for  one,  felt  a  sudden  drop  in  the  social 
temperature,  and  he  promptly  shot  a  quick  look 
at  his  wife's  gray  face. 

"  Charlotte's  been  messing  things  up  again,"  he 
guessed  shrewdly.  "  But  these  people  won't  take 
things  in  our  whipped-dog  Eastern  way.  She'd 
better  look  out  for  herself." 

"What's  up?"  he  asked  with  involuntary 
amusement,  as  he  discerned  a  movement  of  the 
company  from  the  dinner-table  to  the  corral. 

Cobrita  turned  her  saucer-like  eyes  of  blue. 

"  Wild  Man's  going  to  practice  Pretty  Percy," 
she  said  informingly,  and  hastened  after  Dry- 
bone,  who,  in  some  subtle  way,  seemed  to  be 
maneuvering  Mrs.  Warder  into  the  expedition. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX    145 

Warder  followed,  nibbling  on  a  cigar  and  won 
dering  what  the  foreman  had  in  hand.  Presently 
he  stopped  and  listened. 

"He  ain't  much,"  he  heard  Drybone  remarking 
scornfully  to  Mrs.  Warder  as  they  stood  inspect 
ing  the  elephant  through  the  bars  of  the  corral. 
"  Now  that  I  kin  read  his  mind,  I  kin  see  he  only 
knows  two  English  words,  *  Hay '  and  '  Sleep/ 
And  yet  he  figures  he's  the  only  one  in  his  class. 
But  there  was  a  sure-enough  ellefunt  out  yere 
a  while  back — the  Gentry-Macdonald  ellefunt. 
Y'uVe  heard  of  it?"  he  asked  pensively  of 
the  lady,  and  feigned  indifference  against  the 
fence. 

"  I  am  not  conscious  of  ever  having  been  in 
formed " 

"  It  was  a  queer  animile,"  Drybone  mused  remi- 
niscently.  "  It  had  no  father — and  no  mother." 

"  Pardon  me,"  interposed  Mrs.  Warder,  a  lit 
tle  too  directly.  "  Let  me  fully  understand  you. 
Do  you  say  it  had  no  mother?" 

"No,"  he  said  sadly,  and  shook  his  head. 
"  No  mother." 

"  No  mother  at  all? "  pursued  the  lady  reck 
lessly,  at  which  her  husband  uttered  a  faint  chok 
ing  sound. 


146   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

"  No,"  answered  Drybone  kindly.  "  Not  even 
the  teeniest  bit.  Y'u  see,  it  was  a  wild  one!  And 
it  only  lived  part  of  one  day. 

"  It  was  first  found  down  on  the  Vegas  Desert 
by  a  felluh  named  Bill  Gentry.  He  found  it  the 
same  day  that  Old  Man  Pickett's  mules  ran  away 
while  he  was  out  prospecting  at  the  foot  of 
Charleston  Peak.  The  old  man  had  been  wearing 
moccasins  the  day  before  and  it  had  rained,  so  he 
hung  'em  up  at  night  tu  dry.  In  the  middle  of 
the  night  a  coyote  up  on  the  range  caught  scent 
of  'em  and  came  down  and  ate  'em  up, — hide  and 
hair.  When  sun-up  came  the  old  man  found  he 
had  no  footgear. 

"  *  Prospecting  merely  in  German  socks  might 
not  be  lucky,'  the  old  man  says.  *  I  fear  and  be 
lieve  I  must  go  tu  Las  Vegas  for  a  set  of  shoes,' 
and  he  goes  tu  ketch  up  his  mules. 

"  But  these  yere  mules  had  decided  during  the 
night  that  they  didn't  approve  of  the  country,  so 
while  he  was  hitching  up  they  hee-hawed  and  ran 
away  out  on  the  desert. 

"'My — dear — me!9  says  the  old  man,  after 
he's  got  the  Recording  Angel  all  tired  out.  '  No 
Stock — and  no  footgear!  Whatever  shall  I  do? 
I  can't  get  one  without  the  other  and  I  haven't 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   147 

got  either.  Whatever — whatever — oh — hum — 
hum ' 

"  Just  then  his  eye  falls  on  the  canvas  nose-bags 
those  ornery  mules  had  used  tu  eat  out  of.  Right 
away  he  sticks  a  foot  into  one  of  'em.  It  was 
sloshy  but  soothing.  He  puts  on  the  other,  hists 
up  the  neck-ropes  and  ties  'em  round  his  waist, 
tries  'em  out  on  a  barrel  cactus  and  a  rock,  and 
goes  clumping  off  through  the  brush  after  his 
mules. 

"  Now,  it  happened  that  Bill  Gentry  and 
Scotty  Macdonald  were  chloriding  a  little  claim 
up  on  the  *  bench  '  about  this  time,  and  Bill  hap 
pened  tu  be  out  on  the  flat  with  his  gun.  After 
a  while  he  comes  tu  a  piece  of  soft  borax  flat  and 
some  very  amazing  tracks. 

"  He  followed  quite  a  ways.  They  made  him 
goggle-eyed. 

"  '  My,  my,  Bill! '  he  says  tu  hisself.  'What 
do  y'u  reckon  it  is?  It's  plenty  big  enough  for 
a  piano,  but  a  man  wouldn't  figure  much  on  that, 
and  yet  it  ain't  a  felluh  walking  on  his  head.  I 
reckon  I  could  make  marks  like  those  with  the 
butt-end  of  a  churn — but,  why  should  I?' 

"  With  that  he  takes  a  chew  and  a  long  think 
and  says: 


i48  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

"  'That  measly  thing's  front  is  just  exactly  like 
its  tail.  It  don't  look  tu  me  like  a  square  deal. 
How  would  a  felluh  know  where  tu  shoot?  '  And 
with  that  he  turns  around  and  runs  all  the  way 
back  tu  camp.  He  begins  yelling  when  he  was 
a  pretty  long  ways  off. 

"'Hello-o-o,  Scotty!9  he  yells.  '  Y'u  come 
right  out  yere  with  a  gun  and  all  the  cartridges 
y'u  got.  THERE'S  A  TERRIBUL  WILD 
ELLEFUNT  DOWN  YERE  ON  THE 
FLAT!' 

"  '  Y'u  go  tu  the  devil,'  says  Scotty,  sticking  his 
old  bald  head  out  of  the  cabin  door.  *  I'm  car 
pentering  my  beard.  I  just  hate  ellefunts  on 
shaving  days.' 

"  '  I'm  telling  y'u,'  yells  Bill. 

"'I'm  telling  y'u,'  hollers  Scotty.  'There 
hasn't  been  an  ellefunt  north  of  the  Ryer  Grande 
for  years  and  years?  ' 

"  '  It's  got  tracks  as  big  as  your  hat,'  yells 
Bill.  '  I  followed  'em  for  worse  than  a  mile.' 

"  '  How  many  toes  did  it  have  ? '  says  Scotty. 

" '  Hasn't  got  any  toes,'  yells  Bill,  running 
around  in  circles  and  waving  his  arms.  '  It's  a 
young  one/' 

"  When  Scotty  heard  that  he  got  all  het  up. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   149 

He  grabbed  his  gun  in  one  hand  and  the  shaving- 
brush  in  the  other  and  away  he  went.  They  trailed 
quite  a  ways.  When  they  stops  tu  rest  Scotty  looks 
around  pretty  cautious,  and  says: 

"  '  Bill,  the  last  time  y'u  saw  an  ellefunt  what 
would  y'u  allow  he  mostly  looked  like  ?  Of  course, 
I  know,  Bill — if  it  comes  right  down  tu  that — 
but  I  never  was  bigoty  about  these  things.' 

"  *  Scotty,'  says  Bill,  *  it's  hardly  fair  for  me  tu 
say.  Y'u  know,  Scotty,  what  this  yere  American 
language  of  ours  kin  say.  Y'u  know  what  words 
kin  do,  and  what  they  just  natch'ly  can't  do, — 
what  there  ain't  any  sense  in  their  trying  tu  do, — 
and  I'm  telling  y'u,  Scotty,  there  ain't  any  words 
kin  describe  an  animile  like  that !  ' 

"  *  Gosh!  '  says  Scotty,  letting  it  slip  right  out. 

"  *  Yessir,'  says  Bill.  l  If  I  knowed  any  kind 
of  a  noise  that  would  make  y'u  think  right  away 
of  an  ellefunt  I'd  make  it,  Scotty — bet  on  that.' 

"  'About  what  would  y'u  call  the  formation?' 
asks  Scotty. 

"  '  Well,'  says  Bill,  *  someways  it  reminds  folks 
of  a  coyote  that's  growed  up  tu  resemble  a  ter 
rible  fierce  hawg.' 

U4A-6h!'  says  Scotty.     'About  how  big?' 

44  Y'u  see,  that  was  a  natural  question  for  this 


150  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

yere  Scotty  man.  He  had  a  fearful  disposi 
tion. 

" (  Well,'  says  Bill,  looking  around  for  those 
little  old  tracks  again  so's  he  could  quit  instructin' 
Scotty,  *  there's  little  ones,  of  course, — and  big 
ones, — and  some  that's  sort  of  poor — and  runty — 
and  religious.  There's  others,  too,  that  just  keeps 
on  a-growing.  It's  never  been  rightly  knowed  if 
they  ever  do  stop.' 

"  Scotty  didn't  say  much.  The  end  of  the  shav 
ing-brush  was  spinning  around  in  his  mouth,  and 
his  eyes  stuck  out  like  ears  on  a  potato.  He  was 
making  ellefunts  tu  hiss  elf  in  his  mind. 

"  *  Be  a  good  fellow,  Bill,'  says  he.  *  Gimme  a 
line  on  the  front  section.' 

"  '  Scotty,'  says  Bill,  mighty  pleasant,  *  take  it 
from  me.  This  is  a  high-grade  animile.  Auto- 
mologically  speaking,  the  front  legs  is  set  up 
ve-e-ry,  very  close  tu  the  shoulders.  In  between 
these  two  big,  strong  shoulders  I'm  telling  about, 
comes  the  head  and  eyes — and  teeth — when,  of 
course,  they  ain't  stretched  'way  up  looking  'round 
through  the  trees.' 

"  '  THE  TEETH! '  hollers  Scotty. 

"  *  Yessir,'  says  Bill.  '  And  the  body  comes 
right  along  behind.  The  hind  legs,  they  have  tu 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   151 

hit  up  a  good  gait  and  keep  up  the  very  best 
they  can.' 

"  '  S-s-s-say,'  says  Scotty,  and  he  goes  tu  pulling 
at  Bill's  sleeve.  '  Say,  Bill,  kin  they  run?9 

"'Can  they  run?9  says  Bill.  'Can  they— 
Say !  Don't  y'u  ever  ask  me  such  a  foolish  ques 
tion  again.' 

"  But  Scotty  didn't  care.  He  was  making  new 
ellefunts  tu  hisself  in  his  mind — and  more  of  'em 
— and  wusser  ones. 

"  '  I  do  wish,'  complains  Bill,  'that  y'u  would 
n't  make  so  much  noise  while  we're  trailing  these 
wild  ellefunts.  There  you've  gone  and  scared  up 
a  jack-rabbit.  Now,  he'll  go,  like  as  not,  and  tell 
the  ellefunt  we're  a-coming.  Then,  where  do 
you  suppose  we'd  be?  ' 

"  '  Well,  I  dunno,'  says  Scotty.  c  I've  been  con- 
siderin'  that.  I  dunno  just  where  we  would  be, 
Bill.1 

"  Pretty  soon  Scotty  sits  down  on  a  rock.  He 
was  pretty  mournful  and  sad.  Says  he: 

"  '  Were  y'u  ever  about  tu  figure  that  mebbe 
we  could  trap  him,  some  way?' 

"  With  that  Bill  steps  off  a  little,  and  looks  at 
him  sideways,  and  gives  a  laugh. 

"  It  was  a  mean  laugh.     Scotty  told  me  about 


152   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

it.  It  was  one  of  those  laughs  that  make  y'u  feel 
as  if  y'u  hadn't  ever  been  any  good  at  all  in  the 
world — not  tu  nobody — not  even  a  dawg.  It 
would  make  y'u  realize  right  then  and  there  that 
y'u  couldn't  stop  drinking  even  if  y'u  wanted  tu. 
It  would  come  over  y'u  that  all  along  y'u  had  been 
just  a  big,  fat  thing,  with  a  silly  smile,  and  shiny, 
red  ears. 

"  While  Scotty  was  sitting  there,  thinking  how 
horrible  and  true  it  all  was,  Bill  says: 

"'  Scotty!  I  tell  y'u  wot!  We  haven't  saw 
any  new  tracks  lately  and  I've  about  made  up  my 
mind  that  he's  hiding  out  somewheres.  What 
we've  got  tu  do  now  is  tu  distract  him.  I  guess 
you'd  better  come  out  yere,  Scotty,  and  lie  down 
on  your  back.' 

"  Scotty  inspects  the  lay  of  the  ground  and  the 
sun.  They  was  not  good  tu  Scotty. 

"'  What  for?'  says  Scotty. 

" '  Now,  never  y'u  mind,'  coaxes  Bill.  '  This 
will  be  all  right,  reely,  trooly  it  will.  Y'u  see, 
Scotty — I'll  take  off  my  neck-rope,  and  tie  it  'round 
your  feet.  Then  y'u  lie  still  on  your  back,  with 
your  feet  curled  up  in  the  air ' 

"  '  Like  a  sick  lizard,'  says  Scotty. 

"  '  — And  wave  'em  back  and  forth — and  side- 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   153 

ways,'  says  Bill.  *  Now,  all  the  time  I'll  be  hiding 
behind  some  big  rock  with  my  gun,  and  when  he 
comes  a-galloping  out,  mad  as  a  hornet,  looking 
around  tu  see  what  the  trouble  is — I'll  get  him/  he 
says. 

"  '  HmmmnV  says  Scotty.  '  S'posing  y'u  don't 
get  him? ' 

"  *  But  they  allers  do  it  this  way  in  Africker,' 
says  Bill.  '  Do  y'u  reckon  y'u  know  more  than  an 
Africker,  Scotty?' 

*  I  believe  I'd  just  as  soon  not'  says  Scotty. 

"After  that  Bill  got  mad.  '  Here  I  am,'  said 
he,  *  a-scheming  and  a-planning  and  a-working  my 
poor  brain  trying  some  way  tu  capture  this  dan 
gerous  ellefunt,  and  make  your  everlasting  fortune. 
And  there  y'u  sit,  a-measling  'round  on  a  rock  and 
raising  these  little  pee-wee  objections.' 

"  '  My  liver  is  bad,'  says  Scotty.  '  It  hasn't 
hurt  me  so  in  I  don't  know  when.  I  don't  feel  as 
if  I  was  doing  right  by  my  family  in  persooin' 
these  wild  ellefunts,  anyway.  I  bet  your  wife 
wouldn't  take  much  stock  in  it.  It's  too  harrow 
ing.  Now,  y'u  know  I  allers  stand  by  y'u,  Bill. 
Who  was  it  got  Smoky  Overton's  wife's  hus 
band  dead  drunk  down  tu  Caliente  last  Christmas 
so's  y'u  could  get  out  of  town?  Who  was  it  took 


154  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

all  your  money  away  from  y'u  that  night  down  tu 
Tucson,  so's  y'u  couldn't  play  it  away  on  the 
wheel?  Who  was  it  sold  y'u  a  half  interest  in  this 
yere  valible  mine  we've  got?  Y'u  answer  me 
them  three  things,  Bill  Gentry.  Then  I'll  tell  y'u 
how  I'd  feel  if  I  was  lying  out  there  on  the  sand 
all  mashed  out  flatter  than  a  hot  cake.' 

"  Now,  what  this  Scotty  man  was  saying  was 
mostly  true,  and  Bill  began  tu  feel  bad  about  ask 
ing  so  much  of  Scotty's  liver.  He  was  feeling 
sorry  about  those  days  in  Arizona,  too,  when  all  of 
a  sudden  he  remembered  that  the  money  Scotty 
had  blasted  out  of  his  jeans  down  at  Tucson  he 
hadn't  ever  given  back!  Right  away  he  began  tu 
feel  worse.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  was  crawling 
up  behind  Scotty  on  his  hands  and  knees  tu  inter 
view  him  p'intedly  on  the  subject  when  Scotty 
jumped  up  and  let  out  a  yell.  '  Are  those  the 
tracks? '  he  hollers. 

"  Sure  enough,  there  they  were;  behind  a  grease- 
wood,  and  around  a  mesquite,  and  out  on  the  flat; 
as  big  as  soup-bowls  and  as  deep  as  a  stove-pipe. 
On  the  edge  of  a  sand  gully  they  stopped.  The 
ellefunt  had  got  his  feet  crossed  and  rolled  down. 
Then  he  had  thrashed  around.  It  was  a  sweet 
sight.  Just  then,  around  the  base  of  the  hill 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX    155 

through  the  brush,  comes  a  noise  like  a  flock  of 
stampeded  yearlings.  The  rocks  went  tu  falling 
and  the  dirt  went  tu  sliding.  Something  comes 
scrambling  along  with  an  unnatural  number  of 
heads  and  ears.  It  was  breathing  like  a  rusty  pump 
in  the  night. 

"  '  By  the  Great  Divide/  yells  Scotty.  '  It's  got 
eight  legs !  '  and  he  shakes  his  gun,  and  runs  all  the 
way  back  tu  camp. 

"  Bill  saw  he'd  be  awful  hard  tu  catch — but  he 
did  it.  He  didn't  linger  any  as  he  went  by,  either. 
Only  yelled  over  his  shoulder : 

"  '  Don't  stay  long,  Scotty!  '  " 

At  this  point  in  his  narrative  Mr.  Peters  sud 
denly  paused.  With  a  hasty  clutch  behind  him, 
he  descended  agilely  from  the  fence-rail  on  which 
he  had  been  mounted.  Safe  on  the  ground  again 
he  glared  suspiciously  at  the  elephant,  who,  long 
since  discarded  by  the  Wild  Man,  was  to  all 
appearances  rocking  itself  to  sleep. 

"  And  that's  what  I  said  in  the  beginning,"  said 
Drybone.  "  He  ain't  much.  He's  a  real  one.  I 
only  wish  I  could  have  seen  Scotty's." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

"  IF  there's  one  thing  I  like  better  than  another 
about  this  Western  country  it's  the  way  you  fellows 
look  at  life,"  Warder  said  to  Holly  next  morning 
over  their  after-breakfast  cigars.  "  While,  in  a 
sense,  you  may  be  fatalists,  yet  it  strikes  me  yours 
is  the  proper  kind  of  fatalism.  If  your  luck  does 
n't  come  right  now,  nothing  can  prevent  its  com 
ing  next  time.  It  might  be  termed  '  bulldozing  the 
future,' eh?" 

"  If  you'll  always  keep  going  two  feet  farther 
you'll  surely  find  the  pay-shoot,"  the  ranchman  an 
swered  with  a  smile. 

"  That's  the  spirit,"  Warder  exclaimed,  sitting 
up  in  his  chair.  "  That's  what  I  like.  And  you're 
fighting  with  old  Dame  Nature  all  the  time — not 
with  human  nature.  I  guess  I  can  feel  a  little 
chesty  when  I  arrange  a  car  shortage  for  the  other 
fellow,  but  to  my  mind  this  gold-mining  business 
is  something  essentially — er — er,  why,  damn  it  all 
— it's  nobler!  I  tell  you  frankly,  I'm  glad  to  be  in 
it,  although  I'll  confess  I  don't  know  beans  about 

it— yet." 

156 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   157 

"Yes,"  he  continued,  "  I  was  tickled  to  death  to 
get  away  from  it  all  back  East  and  play  with 
something  new.  The  old  game  is  pretty  sordid 
after  you  know  the  ropes.  And  it  was  getting  to 
be  too  much  the  style  in  my  crowd  to  put  over 
something  '  big.'  Of  course,  if  a  dollar  smiles  at 
me  I  take  it,  but  when  the  widows  and  orphans 
began  writing  to  the  ten-cent  magazines  I  welched. 
Said  I,  *  Gentlemen,  there's  a  theory  abroad  in 
these  regenerate  days  that  a  man  with  more  than 
a  million  is  little  better  than  a  crazy  collector  of 
old  coins,  and  while  I  don't  entirely  subscribe  Fin 
going  to  make  Caesar's  wife  look  like  a  Broadway 
flirt.'  You  see,  I  wanted  to  get  into  something 
new  and  clean.  Buying  another  man's  clerks  or 
leaving  a  bunch  of  bills  on  a  certain  table  in  a  cer 
tain  room  was  something  like  our  coal  shipments 
used  to  be — there  were  *  drawbacks.'  And  so  I 
thought  I'd  try  this  mining  game.  Now  that  I'm 
in  it  I  like  it.  I  can  see  it's  going  to  be  just  a 
good,  long  rest — no  mental  excitement,  no  rows, 
no  shenanigan — just  pure,  unadulterated  rest. 
You  simply  find  the  gold,  or  you  don't.  You 
sell  your  article  at  any  time  of  year,  at  a  fixed 
price,  in  a  market  that's  never  glutted  and  has  no 
competition.  No  trouble,  no  lawsuits,  nothing 


158  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

underhanded  there,  you  bet.  If  that  isn't  a  satisfac 
tory  snare  for  the  sunny  simoleon  I  want  to 
know  it.  But  now  that  we're  on  the  subject,  sup 
pose  you  tell  how  things  stand  to  date  at  the 


mines." 


With  a  few  words  and  an  illuminating  gesture 
or  two  the  story  of  the  Yellow  Dog  was  put  clearly 
before  him. 

"  So  that's  where  all  this  talk  of  a  shutdown 
comes  from,"  Warder  said  shrewdly.  "  I  see  now 
why  you're  still  staying  here  at  the  ranch.  I  sus 
pected  all  along  that  you'd  started  the  reports  I 
heard  in  Salt  Lake,  but  I  wanted  to  let  you  get  at 
it  your  own  way.  But  let  me  get  this  Atlas  situa 
tion  clear  in  my  mind.  What  is  it  this  gentleman 
claims?"  and  he  listened  carefully  while  Holly, 
with  a  few  mental  reservations,  indicated  the  pos 
sible  course  of  events.  At  the  word  "  injunction  " 
Warder's  gradually  accumulating  wrath  came  to  a 
head. 

"  So  he  will  sue  and  he  won't  sell  out,"  he 
snapped  angrily.  "  Well,  if  that's  the  state  of  the 
case  we'll  get  in  motion.  I  must  confess  I  didn't 
exactly  look  for  such  things  in  this  business,"  he 
said  with  comic  dismay,  "  but  if  that  fellow  or  any 
pinheaded  bunch  of  ginks  he  sells  out  to  think  they 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   159 

can  put  anything  over  on  us,  we'll  unmuzzle  a 
bag  of  tricks  that'll  make  'em  see  colored  lights." 
Warder  stopped  and  grinned  sheepishly  at  Holly, 
then  burst  into  uproarious  laughter.  "  I  guess 
that  clean  business  I  was  gassing  about  is  always 
in  the  next  county." 

The  ranchman  took  a  blue  print  from  his  pocket 
and  pointed  with  his  cigar. 

"  The  day  after  we  *  abandoned  '  the  tunnel  on 
the  seven  hundred  we  opened  her  up  again — else 
where,"  he  said.  "  We  ran  a  cross-cut  into  the  foot- 
wall  here  at  the  end  of  the  drift  and  sunk  a  winze 
till  we  got  below  the  fractured  zone.  Then  we 
drifted  back " 

"Was  it  there?" 

"  It  was — and  better  than  ever.  But  we  didn't 
stop  with  that.  We  did  a  little  trespassing.  We 
went  on  into  Atlas  ground  and  proved  conclusively 
that  Atlas  is  a  separate  vein " 

"  Bully  for  you!  "  shouted  Warder. 

"And  while  we  were  proving  it  we  did  some 
measuring  and  sampling.  That  young  engineer 
you  sent  out  here  has  the  figures  for  it  in  his  note 
book.  Of  course,  he's  young  and  inclined  to  ex 
aggerate,  but " 

"  The  Atlas  has  got  to  belong  to  us"  the  East- 


160  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

erner  finished  instantly.  "  Now  you're  talking 
business.  Now  I  begin  to  see  where  /  come  in. 
Just  let  me  get  at  that  fellow  after  we've  shed  a 
few  salt  tears  over  the  horrible  state  of  the  mine 
and  let's  see  what  /  can  do.  SAY !  but  we'll  make 
a  great  pair !  I  wish  I'd  come  out  here  sooner," 
chortled  the  seeker  after  clean  business.  u  I  hate 
to  give  you  all  the  credit  for  this.  What  do  you 
really  think  the  Atlas  is  worth  to  us?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Holly  with  a  grim  chuckle,  "  if 
you  and  I  get  hold  of  the  Atlas  we'll  both  need 
guardians.  It  won't  be  safe  to  have  so  much 
money." 

UHANG  THE  MONEY!"  roared  Warder. 
"What /want  is  a  FIGHT!" 

Biddle  Warder,  in  riding  clothes,  now  joined 
them,  and  it  was  soon  arranged  that  the  three 
should  leave  for  the  mines  the  next  morning  at 
daybreak. 

Biddle  was  feeling  very  fit  this  morning.  Either 
the  altitude,  or  despised  sleep,  had  repaired  the 
joyous  ravages  of  the  Yama  Yamas  and  he  felt 
ready  to  be  amused.  In  the  past  this  had  never 
been  difficult,  for,  to  verge  on  the  descriptive,  Bid- 
die  was  a  very  well-favored  boy.  His  blue  eye 
was  a  very  blue  blue  and  his  blond  hair,  close 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   161 

cropped  on  the  sides,  owned  a  shining  ripple  on 
top.  His  nose  and  his  legs  were  straight,  two  ex 
cellent  things  in  man,  and  while  he  was  presumably 
cleanly  tubbed  he  had,  in  any  event,  the  florid 
faculty  of  always  seeming  so  which,  no  doubt,  is 
the  greater  advantage.  Whenever  he  laughed, 
which  he  did  in  a  naively  ingratiating  way,  he 
added  a  mouthful  of  strong,  white  teeth  to  his 
other  good  points.  It  being  that  Biddle  could 
warble  a  little  song — completely  mystify  you  with 
a  pack  of  cards  or  faithfully  reproduce  a  lion  in 
pursuit  of  a  gazelle  if  provided  with  a  piano — it 
will  be  seen  that  he  was  not  far  removed  from 
that  pleasantly  disrespectful  young  man  who 
makes  attractive  the  front  row  of  our  college  glee 
club,  tells  us  how  to  run  our  business  over  our 
cigar,  and  eventually  marries  our  daughter. 

Biddle  was  decidedly  interested  in  Clarice.  She 
was  much  too  handsome  a  young  woman  to  be 
without  a  history,  he  thought,  although  "  past " 
was  the  word  in  mind,  and  he  warmed  to  the  pros 
pect  of  a  flirtation.  But  Miss  Belvawney  was  ex 
ceedingly  preoccupied  this  morning  and  Biddle  felt 
disappointed,  after  the  telegram  to  Wiley  had  been 
sent,  that  she  did  not  respond.  He  felt,  further 
more,  as  if  an  impression  of  himself  were  crys- 


1 62  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

tallizing  in  the  girl's  mind.     Biddle  thought  her 
excessively  cautious. 

"  It's  too  bad  you're  not  going  to  the  mine  with 
us,"    said    he.     "  I'd    like    to    take    you    down 


a  mine." 


;'What  is  it  like?"  asked  Clarice. 

"  Oh,  you  just  go  down  and  stumble  around 
and  bump  your  head  on  the  gold.  It's  nice  and 
dark  down  there,"  he  murmured. 

"  Hmmm,"  said  Clarice,  as  she  took  up  her 
work.  "  I  don't  like  the  dark." 

*  You'd  have  to  wear  men's  clothes,"  he  con 
tinued.     "You'd  look  very  well  in  them,  I  think." 

The  girl  began  to  frown.  How  much  did  this 
young  man  know  about  her? 

Biddle  saw  he  was  making  a  poor  start,  and  the 
appearance  of  the  genial  Drybone,  wandering  aim 
lessly  about  in  the  front  yard,  was  made  the  occa 
sion  of  a  quick  shift. 

"  What  a  funny  old  sketch,"  he  said.  "  You 
must  get  a  lot  of  fun  out  of  him." 

"  We're  all  *  sketches,'  '  the  girl  answered 
evenly,  her  lips  in  a  thoughtful  pout.  Then  her 
brows  relaxed  as  she  saw  the  foreman  mount  the 
steps  and  doff  his  hat  to  Mrs.  Warder  on  the 
porch.  She  suspected,  from  Mr.  Peters'  strangely 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   163 

roving  eye,  that  he  was  about  to  perpetrate  some 
thing. 

"  I'm  right  glad  you're  interested  in  poetry, 
ma'am,"  the  foreman  said  with  a  faint  cough,  as 
he  took  a  chair  beside  Mrs.  Warder  and  laid  his 
hat  on  the  floor  between  them.  "  Good  poetry 
critics  are  fairly  scarce  in  these  parts — it  discour 
ages  a  man  all  up.  There  was  an  editor  over  in 
Esmeralda  County  once  that  used  to  criticise  my 
poetry  for  me,  but  when  I  went  over  there  tu 
see  him  about  a  criticism  he'd  written  on  some 
thing  of  mine,  he  was  dead — died  the  day  before," 
said  Drybone. 

"  Mastoiditis,"  said  Mrs.  Warder.  "  Everyone 
has  it  nowadays." 

"Oh,  no,"  said  Drybone.  "Private  killing. 
Y'u  see,  another  poet  got  there  a  day  ahead  of 
me. 

"  But,  now, — about  this  little  thing  that  I  dashed 
off  last  night, — of  course,  the  words  ain't  much, 
the  idee  is  what  I'm  mainly  sot  on." 

"  Yes,"  the  lady  agreed  thoughtfully.  "  Ideas 
are  everything.  Without  them  even  the  very  long 
est  poem  would — eh — would — eh " 

1  That's  me !  "  said  Drybone  happily,  coming 
to  her  rescue.  "  And  so  I  took  a  big  one !  " 


1 64  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

"Love,  of  course?"  smiled  the  Philadelphia!!. 

"  No,"  replied  the  foreman  decisively,  while  his 
eye  rolled  wildly.  "  REVENGE  !  " 

He  took  a  sheet  of  paper  from  his  pocket  and 
cleared  his  throat.  "  This  first  part  is  just  ordi 
nary  description — y'u  don't  get  the  *  Revenge  '  till 
it  nearly  stops.  This  yere  is  the  first  line: 

"  '  O-h-h-h-h-h-h !    Horrid  Rat ! '  " 

"  Mercy!"  exclaimed  the  lady,  with  a  faint 
scream.  "A  horrid  what?" 

"RAT!"  replied  the  foreman  with  surprise. 
"  What's  the  matter,  ma'am  ?  Ain't  rats  used  much 
in  poems  back  East?  This  rat  was  a  mean  one,  so 
I  just  had  to.  It's  all  in  the  idee — you'll  see. 

"  '  O-h-h-h-h-h-h-h !     Horrid  Rat ! ' 

Oh,  dark  and  dredful  beest! 

Beset  with  hare,  and  sin,  and  midnight  greed! 

How  very  curiyus  thy  eye, 

How  unfathomobul  thy  way! 

Down  in  the  cellurs  mold, 

Thou  hast  thy  den. 

The  brite  day's  sun 

Holds  out  no  shining  loor. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   165 

/  wouldn't  be  a  rat — fer  any  thing! 

(Fer  kids  tu  throw  a  stone 

And  wimen  holler) 

And  yet,  pore  thing, 

With  all  thy  faults  thou  only  stole 

Tu  fill  thy  stummick! 

And  many  a  man  has  did  a  wusser  thing! 

But,  say!  it  cleen  beets  me, 

How  yu  kin  naw 

Through  boards  and  not  get  belly-akes! 

Oh,  critter  of  perfidyus  nite! 

Oh,  denizen  of  darker  worlds  than  this! 

If  I  wuz  y'u  I'd  feel  so  ding  dang  bad 

I'd  just  lay  down  and  die  I 


But  y'u  wuz  ketched,  all  rite, 
With  all  your  arts  feline, 
To  make  example  to  your  kind. 
There  aint  no  rat  kin  steel  my  socks 
And  not  get  ketched — sometime!" 

Drybone  paused  and  looked  hopefully  over  his 
spectacles. 

"How  do  you  feel  about  it?"  he  asked 
anxiously. 

"  I  feel — rather  upset,"  the  Philadelphian  said 


1 66   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

looking  as  if  she  were  about  two  days  out  on  a 
stormy  passage.  "  It  must  be  something  I've 
eaten.  I  think  I'll  go  inside." 

"  I  could  make  them  all  4  cats,'  if  y'u  like," 
Drybone  called  after  her,  as  she  disappeared,  and 
Biddle,  with  a  reddened  face,  went  to  meet  her. 
"  It's  just  the  idee,  y'u  know." 

With  Biddle  disposed  of,  Clarice  sped  away  in 
search  of  the  ranchman.  Her  acquaintance  with 
Buckner  in  Moab  had  been  advanced  to  the  stage 
where  the  storekeeper  was  growing  loquacious  and 
the  girl  was  on  edge  for  a  clue.  What  she  did  not 
understand,  however,  was  Holly's  increasing  reti 
cence.  She  knew  that  he  was  constantly  receiv 
ing  reports  of  some  nature  as  to  Macklin,  for  there 
were  letters  which  he  forgot  to  give  her  to  file 
and  there  were  low-voiced  men  who  came  and 
talked  with  him  down  by  the  corral,  ate  a  silent 
meal,  and  rode  away  again.  Something  was  on 
foot  and  she  wondered  why  his  previous  frankness 
had  been  withdrawn.  Searching  about  the  out 
skirts  of  the  ranch,  she  found  him,  rather  to  her 
astonishment,  boyishly  fishing  leaves  out  of  an 
irrigating  ditch  with  a  stick.  He  colored  a  little 
when  discovered,  for  the  stick  was  obviously  in 
adequate. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   167 

To  tell  the  truth,  Dick  Holly  was  sadly  per 
plexed.  His  scouts  brought  him  nothing  tangible 
as  to  the  cause  of  Drew's  death,  while  Macklin's 
history,  as  so  far  reported,  showed  only  that  he 
had  once  had  a  wife,  like  many  another  man,  and 
had  spent  much  of  his  time  outside  of  mining 
camps.  The  full  weight  of  what  this  might  mean 
to  the  girl  was  troubling  him,  and  the  more  he 
thought  of  it  the  more  determined  he  was  to  keep 
it  from  her. 

"  I've  wanted  to  talk  to  you  about  Buckner,"  the 
girl  began,  with  a  note  in  her  voice  that  chided 
him  for  not  trusting  her  completely. 

"Well,"  said  Holly,  with  a  grave  look,  "I 
guess  that  matter  will  be  settled  up  soon.  We're 
going  over  there  to-morrow." 

"  You  mean  that  you  have  proof  that  Macklin 
really  is  the  murderer?"  asked  she  whom  Fate 
was  fast  making  Macklin's  daughter. 

'  Proof '  is  a  mighty  big  word,"  the  man  an 
swered,  and  smiled  up  at  her  as  best  he  could. 
"  Sit  down  here  and  fish  with  me  for  a  while,  and 
we'll  see  how  much  we  know." 

"  We  have  to  go  back  three  years,"  he  said, 
choosing  his  words  carefully.  "  We  find  that  Drew 
left  Moab  with  his  outfit  to  go  north  through 


1 68   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

Pahranegat  Valley  into  Idaho.  He  had  his  assess 
ment  work  done  on  the  Atlas  and  was  free  for  a 
year.  We  hadn't  started  up  the  Yellow  Dog  at 
that  time  and  so,  of  course,  there  wasn't  any  boom. 
So  this  man  Drew  pulls  his  freight,  and  he  goes 
by  the  way  of  the  Devil's  Playground  to  get  into 
the  Pahranegat  and  save  time.  Somewhere  along 
there  he  meets  Macklin.  Now,  we'll  say  that  this 
Macklin  man  knows  that  Atlas  is  good  ground 
and  makes  him  an  offer  for  the  mine.  Suppose, 
again,  that  Drew  is  short  of  money.  Suppose  that 
he's  growing  discouraged — with  no  buyers  in  sight 
— and  only  a  little  pay-ore — and  no  boom  coming 
his  way.  Well,  then — he  sells  out  to  Macklin — 
for  two  hundred  dollars.  So  far,  so  good.  And 
now  we  have  to  figure  another  element  into  the 
game  that  people  don't  always  count  on,  and  that 
is — whisky.  Men  drink,  you  know,  and  men  get 
drunk,  and  sometimes  they're  not  always  exactly 
happy  about  it.  Perhaps  this  Drew  man  was  like 
that.  Perhaps,  too,  he  kept  gettin'  worse  and 
worse  and  finally  was  foolish  with  a  gun.  Now, 
it's  a  funny  thing  that  the  only  thing  you  can't 
bluff  with  out  here  is  a  gun.  You  either  use  it  or 
you  don't.  Perhaps  Macklin  was  the  quicker  of 
the  two. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   169 

"And  now  let's  see  where  we  are.  Here  is 
Drew,  lying  there  in  the  sand  by  the  campfire  by  his 
own  fault,  and  here  is  Macklin  standing  and  look 
ing  down  at  him  and  thanking  his  stars  that  he  was 
good  and  quick.  Over  there  are  four  or  five  burros. 
And  all  around  is  just  sand  and  sky  and  lonesome- 
ness — and  God  not  very  close  by,  either.  And 
that's  all,  you  understand — all.  No  witnesses — no 
policeman  to  blow  on  his  little  whistle — no  crowd 
to  collect — nothing  of  that  kind.  Just  one  man 
there  all  alone,  with  the  fellow  that  tried  to  kill 
him  huddled  up  like  a  suit  of  old  clothes  on  the 
ground. 

"  And  now  we  begin  to  see  what  proof  is.  What 
is  Macklin  going  to  do  ?  Can  he  go  back  to  Moab 
and  say,  '  This  fellow  tried  to  shoot  me  '  ?  If  he 
does,  the  Sheriff  will  take  him  in  a  disgusted  sort 
of  way  for  being  such  a  fool,  and  lock  him  up,  and 
after  a  while  they  try  him.  The  county  goes  to 
expense  and  Macklin  goes  to  expense  and  all  for 
what?  Just  to  have  twelve  men  listen  to  a  perfect 
story  of  how  one  man  got  full  and  tried  to  kill 
another.  Now,  some  of  those  men  are  friends  of 
Drew's  and  they  win  over  the  rest,  and  Macklin 
gets  hung — not  because  he  was  guilty  but  because 
he  was  unlucky.  But  perhaps  they  disagree.  Al- 


170  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

low  that  and  then  see  what  happens.  Macklin,  who 
has  as  good  a  claim  and  as  good  a  right  as  any 
in  these  parts,  gets  run  out  of  the  country.  Every 
one  knows  about  him.  Everyone  points  their 
finger  at  him.  He  gets  sick  of  it  after  a  while  and 
disappears. 

"  Now,  look  at  the  other  thing  he  can  do.  He 
can  hide  the  body  and  sell  the  burros  and  outfit. 
He  can  go  away  for  a  month  or  so,  come  back, 
record  his  purchase  of  the  claim,  and  go  to  work, 
and  try  to  forget  it.  Time  passes  and  they  find  the 
body  and  remember  about  the  other  man.  And 
just  as  they're  beginning  to  raise  a  hue  and  cry 
they  begin  to  think  along  the  lines  I've  laid  out. 
And  they  get  weaker  and  weaker  and  tired  of  hear 
ing  the  professional  bloodhounds  bark,  and  after  a 
while  they  let  it  drop." 

He  stopped  and  opened  out  his  hands  to  her 
with  the  kindly  smile  she  loved.  "  Do  you  see, 
Miss  Clarice?  Perhaps  it  wasn't  murder,  after 
all.  Perhaps  it  was  only  hard  luck.  Can  you  hang 
a  man  for  that?  " 

He  watched  her  puzzling  over  his  ingenious 
solution  and  then  softly  drew  a  long  breath.  "  Oh, 
well,"  he  said,  "  I  guess  we  won't  worry  about  it 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   171 

any  more.  We'll  get  the  Atlas  to-morrow,  never 
fear. 

"  It  will  be  a  nice  thing  when  we  do,"  he  con 
tinued  in  lighter  tones.  "  Warder  says  he's  going 
to  keep  his  son  out  here  to  watch  the  job.  Of 
course,  that  will  be  regarded  as  very  pleasant  by 
all — he  seems  to  be  an  active  young  fellow.  It's 
funny  how  such  a  rich  young  man  hasn't  any 
wife.  He  ought  to  make  a  competent  husband,  I 
should  judge." 

"  Suppose,"  said  Clarice,  disregarding  the 
brazen  allusion  to  young  Warder,  "  suppose  that 
Macklin  gave  the  other  man  two  hundred  dollars 
for  the  claim?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  ranchman  weakly. 

"Then  why  wasn't  it  on  the  body?" 

The  ranchman  smiled.  "  You  mean — he 
would  leave  it  there  to  make  good  his  statement 
about  the  purchase?  Well,  the  body  was  found 
by  One-eyed  Brewster  of  Bullionfield,"  he  said 
with  fortunate  recollection.  "  One-Eye's  been 
needing  that  two  hundred  for  right  some  time." 

"  But,  do  they  know  that  Macklin  had  two  hun 
dred  dollars,  to  begin  with?  " 

Holly  shook  his  head.  There  was  nothing  he 
could  say.  In  spite  of  his  attempts  to  explain  the 


172  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

case  away  she  had  put  her  finger  unerringly  on 
its  weakest  spot. 

If  he  feared,  however,  that  she  was  about  to  con 
tinue  the  subject  he  was  mistaken,  for  the  girl  had 
won  her  point  and  she  knew  it.  Either  she  had 
given  him  an  idea  to  work  on  or  else  his  defense 
of  the  Atlas  man  had  been  only  a  pretense,  as  she 
much  suspected.  In  any  case,  she  felt  she  had 
a  right  to  go  on  with  what  she  was  doing,  and 
so  began  to  glow  inwardly  again.  She  rose  blithely 
to  her  feet,  without  touching  her  hands  to  the 
ground,  as  he  noticed  admiringly,  and  smiled  down 
at  him  with  the  stars  in  her  eyes  once  more.  She 
did  not  know  it,  but  in  her  radiant  health  and 
beauty  she  was  the  most  desirable,  all-satisfying 
thing  that  the  ranchman's  world  had  ever  held. 

"  I'm  so  glad  that  you  like  young  Mr.  Warder," 
she  said  with  what  he  agonizingly  recognized  as  a 
pleased  note  in  her  voice.  "  If  he's  to  stay  out  here 
I  think  he  ought  to  marry  a  Western  girl." 


CHAPTER  IX 

"  AMY,"  remarked  her  aunt  as  the  two  sat  to: 
gether  on  the  fresh  shadowed  veranda,  "  did  you 
see  your  uncle  this  morning  before  he  started  for 
the  mines?  " 

"  No,  Aunt,"  said  Amy  carefully.  "  I  didn't 
see  Mr.  Holly — I  mean,  Uncle  Os'.  I  didn't  get 
up  till  half-after  seven.  But  I  think  Miss  Bel- 
vawney  saw  them." 

"  I  was  wondering  what  had  brought  you  to 
such  early  hours,"  Mrs.  Warder  mused  in  a  tone 
that  both  explained  her  question  and  asked  an 
other.  "  It  must  be  because  the  sun  rises  so  much 
earlier  out  here." 

"  I  was  writing  a  letter,"  responded  Amy,  with 
true  Western  recklessness. 

"  Gfive  me  the  letter  and  I  will  put  a  stamp  on 
it  for  you,"  her  aunt  said  a  little  too  promptly. 
"  I  was  careful  to  bring  some  good  stamps  with  me 
from  Philadelphia." 

"  Thank  you  very  much,  Aunt,"  the  discerning 
niece  replied,  "  but  I  have  already  given  the  letter 
to  Miss  Belvawney  to  mail  with  the  others." 

173 


174  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

It  had  taken  Clarice  a  little  time  to  understand 
Miss  Radnor.  As  when  at  night  the  most  harmless 
shapes  fill  our  breast  with  wild  alarms,  so  Amy's 
swift  smiles  at  the  ranchman  had  furnished  cause 
for  not  a  little  distress,  but  while  Clarice  had  been 
deliciously  torturing  herself  the  thin  girl  had  come 
to  her  with  encircling  arms,  a  blush,  and  a  letter, 
whereupon  there  had  been  a  remarkable  outburst 
of  affection  and  engagements  of  secrecy. 

But  however  easily  the  others  adapted  them 
selves,  Mrs.  Warder  daily  found  life  only  the  more 
disconcerting. 

"  That  remarkable  woman !  "  she  said  to  her 
niece,  so  abruptly  that  Amy  divined  the  cause  of 
the  long  meditation.  "  I  can't  understand  her  at 
all.  When  I  was  first  with  her  this  morning  she 
seemed  quite  rational,  but  later  on  she  became  so 
nervous  and  acted  so  strangely  that  I  came  away. 
Almost  immediately  afterwards  I  saw  her  out  in 
the  back  yard  throwing  an  anvil — an  anvil,  Amy 
— up  in  the  air  and  catching  it  when  it  came  down. 
Then  she  gave  a  loud,  wild  laugh  and  rushed  back 
into  the  house " 

"  What  were  you  talking  about?"  asked  Amy 
curiously. 

"  We  began  by  talking  about  how   long  you 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   175 

ought  to  let  jelly  boil  after  you  put  the  sugar  in," 
her  aunt  replied,  "  but  it  was  almost  no  time  at  all 
before  I  found  that  the  woman  has  no  distinct  con 
ception  of  the  future  life.  I  shouldn't  like  to  say 
that  her  influence  here  is  precisely  sinister,  yet 
religious  exercises  of  some  kind,  say,  a  half-hour 
of  talk  and  prayer  each  afternoon  at  four 
o'clock " 

"  Imogene  blasts  at  four,"  reflected  Amy.  "  I'm 
not  sure  that  even  prayer  would  dislodge  her  from 
her  mine  at  that  hour.  Have  you  thought,  Aunt 
Charlotte,  of  some  easy  approach  that  we  might 
make  ?  Something  rather  gradual,  you  know " 

"  You  are  searching  for  a  word,  Amy.  I  have 
it.  We  must  be  *  adroit'  " 

"  Y-e-e-e-s,"  conceded  Amy.  "  But  I've  been 
thinking  that  some  stepping-stone,  like  fancy- 
work " 

'  The  very  thing.  How  you  stimulate  my  mind, 
my  dear.  My  workbag  is  up  on  my  bureau — if 
you  don't  mind." 

When  Amy  returned  to  the  veranda  it  was  to 
find  Miss  Belvawney  and  the  other  Pilkington 
women  already  there,  probably  gathered  together 
by  some  telepathic  force. 

"  We  really  must  form  a  Sewing  Society,"  Mrs. 


176  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

Warder  was  saying  jovially.  "  Now,  in  Phila 
delphia  we  often  sew  this  way  for  poor 
people." 

"  So  do  we/'  murmured  Imogene. 

''  We  might  even  give  ourselves  a  name."  Mrs. 
Warder's  wary  eye,  flitting  from  face  to  face,  en 
countered  only  blank  innocence.  "  Let  us  vote  on 
a  name.  I  have  already  been  thinking  of  one. 
Might  I  suggest  *  Daughters  of  Dorcas '  ?  " 

"  All  agreeable,  say  AYE !  "  announced  Imo 
gene. 

"  AYE !  "  said  Cobrita  and  Clarice. 

"  Dorcas  is  elected,  all  right,"  said  the  Strong 
Woman  swiftly.  "  I  only  hope  she  was  a  married 
woman.  Was  she?  " 

"Well,  really!     Hum— er— well " 

"Who  was  Dorcas?"  asked  the  little  yellow- 
haired  person  who  knew  all  about  snakes. 

"  Dorcas,"  said  Mrs.  Warder,  not  too  rapidly, 
"  Dorcas  was  a  woman  in  the  Bible  who  sewed. 
But  more  than  that " 

"  I'm  real  sorry,  Mrs.  Warder,"  Imogene  inter 
posed  forcefully,  u  but  I'm  mighty  partickler  about 
such  things.  I  always  got  to  know" 

"  Her  other  name  was  '  Tabitha,'  "  ventured 
Clarice, 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   177 

"But  I  want  to  know— What's  that,  girlie? 
Two  first  names?  " 

"  She  was  called  '  Tabitha,'  which  meant 
4  Dorcas,7  "  Amy  explained,  hoping  to  clarify  the 
situation. 

"  And  Saint  Peter  brought  her  back  to  life  after 
she  was  dead,"  added  Clarice.  "And  that  is  all 
that  is  known  about  her." 

"  And  that  is  all  that  is  known  about  her,"  said 
Mrs.  Warder. 

"  Well — I  dunno,"  Imogene  muttered,  with 
comic  helplessness.  "  Times  have  changed. 
Mighty  few  poor  seamstresses  /  ever  knew  ever 
wanted  to  be  brought  back.  But  it  ain't  clear  in 

my  mind  yet "  Imogene's  voice  suddenly 

faded  away  before  a  presage  of  coming  events 
which  her  alert  eyes  had  discerned  in  the  fore 
ground. 

Down  by  the  corral  a  person,  who  had  lately 
dismounted  from  a  thin-necked,  ribby  little  horse, 
was  immersed  in  conversation  with  Mr.  Peters. 
To  those  who  could  interpret  Drybone's  insidious 
persuasions  it  was  clear  that  he  was  recommend 
ing  some  line  of  action  to  the  stranger,  and  al 
though  the  horseman  at  first  seemed  only  partly 


1 78   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

willing,  the  foreman  presently  linked  an  arm  in 
his  and  led  him  up  to  the  house. 

"  Bishop  Moroni  Sorensen — from  Bull  Valley 
Stake, "  Mr.  Peters  announced,  while  his  eyes  flit 
ted  from  face  to  face  with  suspicious  evasiveness. 
"  Brother  Moroni  is  on  his  annual  round-up  for 
mavericks  out  of  the  churchly  fold,  ladies,  and  I 
knew  you'd  want  to  see  him.  I  hope  youVe  got 
your  branding-irons  hot,  Bishop." 

"Pleezed  tu  meet  y'u,  folks,"  the  Bishop  re 
sponded,  with  professional  ease,  smiling  yellowly 
and  shaking  hands  all  around.  "  Always  pleezed 
tu  meet  the  ladies." 

On  closer  inspection,  the  Bishop  proved  to  be  a 
gaunt,  bleak  individual,  very  loosely  jointed  and 
sallow.  With  his  thick,  black  hair  combed  back 
from  his  forehead  and  his  high  cheek-bones  and 
bold  gray  eyes,  he  seemed  not  unlike  a  hard-faced 
daguerreotype  of  Civil  War  times.  The  pristine 
blackness  of  his  old-fashioned  cutaway  coat  had 
been  weathered  to  a  depressing  green,  and  blue- 
jeans  trousers,  with  no  visible  means  of  support, 
only  partly  hid  a  pair  of  misshapen  boots.  As  his 
eyes,  a  little  closely  set  together,  flickered  over  the 
group,  they  rested  longer  than  was  necessary  upon 
Clarice.  They  gave  her  the  uncomfortable  feel- 


J 


*'  BISHOP    SORENSEN    FROM    BULL   VALLEY    STAKE 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   179 

ing  that  the  Bishop  was,  in  truth,  always  pleased  to 
meet  the  ladies. 

"  Is  he  a  Mormon?"  Mrs.  Warder  whispered 
timidly  to  her  nearest  neighbor,  who  she  imme 
diately  realized  was  Imogene. 

"  You  bet!  And  the  very  biggest  of  the  lot!  " 
the  Strong  Woman  whispered  back,  with  miscon- 
veying  force.  "They  say  he's  married  every 
woman  in  his  Stake !  " 

"  Great  heavens !  What  a  monster!  "  the  other 
breathed,  and  grew  pale.  For  the  first  time  the 
Easterner  felt  no  aversion  to  the  juggler  of  anvils. 
Imogene's  thickness  of  fiber  undoubtedly  had 
periods  of  usefulness.  But  Mrs.  Warder  was  not 
without  a  thrill  of  sacrificial  pleasure  in  the  mo 
ment  of  danger.  Ever  since  the  Woman's  Auxili 
ary  of  the  Rittenhouse  Brick  Church  had  protested 
to  Washington  against  Mormon  representation  in 
Congress  she  had  felt  it  to  be  someone's  duty  really 
to  see  a  Mormon.  And  what  opportunity  now 
was  hers!  If  Cousin  Sally  Cadwalader  in  Spruce 
Street  could  only  see  her  Charlotte  now!  What 
flutterings !  What  envy ! 

"  I  didn't  know  there  was  so  many  camping 
here,"  the  Bishop  was  drawling.  "  I  reckon  I'll 
have  a  few  of  The  Young  Men's  Society  ride  over 


1 8o  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

from  Moab.  Mebbe  y'u  could  have  a  dance  and 
a  leetle  music.  Our  people  are  always  strong  on 
bringing  the  young  folks  together. " 

"  But  we're  not  exactly  of  the  same  supersti 
tion,"  Cobrita  said,  and  goggled  her  china-blue 
eyes  at  him  nervously.  Not  having  meant  to  speak, 
she  was  pinkly  sorry  for  it.  "  Superstition  "  was 
n't  the  right  word,  anyway — she  wished  she  had  a 
snake  to  scare  him  with. 

"  Haw-haw-haw !  Our  young  men  don't  keer 
about  that"  the  Bishop  assured  her  genially. 
"  Give  'em  a  good  leg  shaking  and  a  purty  young 
gal  like  y'u,  and  the  Sperrit  kin  always  get  its 
work  in." 

A  distinct  movement  went  through  the  women. 
The  Bishop  assumed  too  much.  Not  even  the 
Eastern  clothes  prevented  him  from  grouping 
them  all  under  the  head  of  "  Pilkingtons  " — 
Moab's  Pilkingtons — hungry  and  out-at-heel  and 
sore  distressed. 

"  Our  cause  is  a-gainin'  in  righteousness  every 
day,"  the  Bishop  announced  suddenly.  "  The 
beauties  of  salvation,  they  shall  be  as  a  fountain 
of  living  water,  and  a  tree  of  life." 

No  one  said  anything. 

"  '  How  beyootiful  upon  the  mountains  are  the 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   181 

feet  of  him  who  bringeth  good  tidings/  "  he  con 
tinued,  unconsciously  surveying  his  own  boots. 
"  '  AWAKE  !  and  hear  the  words  which  I  shall  tell 
thee;  for,  behold,  I  am  come  tu  declare  unto  y'u 
the  glad  tidings  of  great  joy.' 

"  That's  '  Mosiah,'  "  said  the  Bishop,  with  a 
wave  of  his  hand.  "I  always  begins  with  him. 
But  '  Nephi '  and  '  Ether  ' — they're  my  favorytes. 
It  seems  like  they  ketched  right  hold  of  y'u,  telling 
how  it  all  happened,  like  they  do." 

"  What  happened?  "  queried  the  Strong  Woman 
instantly. 

"  Well,"  explained  the  Bishop,  with  brighten 
ing  eyes,  "  y'u  see,  Nephi  tells  how  he  got  'em  all 
out  of  Jerusalem,  and  Ether,  he  tells  how  they  all 
got  over  here.  They  came  over  in  big  barges — 
herds  and  flocks  and  families  and  all.  It  took 
three  hundred  and  forty-four  days  tu  come  across. 
Jared's  brother — he  built  the  barges,  and  they  was 
made  just  like  a  dish.  Excuse  me,  ladies,  till  I 
get  my  Book  outa  my  pants-pocket.  Here  it  is — 
Page  Five  Hundred  and  Seventy-four,  Chapter 
Two,  Verse  Nineteen : 

"  *  And  they  were  built  after  a  manner  that  they 
were  exceeding  tight,  even  that  they  would  hold 
water  like  unto  a  dish;  and  the  bottom  thereof  was 


1 82   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

tight  like  unto  a  dish;  and  the  sides  thereof  were 
tight  like  unto  a  dish;  and  the  ends  thereof  were 
peaked;  and  the  top  thereof  was  tight  like  unto 
a  dish;  and  the  length  thereof  was  the  length  of 
a  tree;  and  the  door  thereof,  when  it  was  shut, 
was  like  unto  a  dish.' ' 

"  That  certainly  sounds  dish-like,"  remarked 
Imogene. 

u  Don't  it?"  the  Bishop  acquiesced  happily. 
u  But  there's  more  to  it  than  that.  There  were 
holes  in  each  dish — barge,  I  mean " 

"  Like  a  colander,"  said  Imogene  promptly. 

"  Not  quite,  ma'am.  Just  two  holes,  with  stop 
pers.  One  in  the  roof  and  one  in  the  cellar  of 
the  boat,  so  whichever  side  was  up  they  could  git 


air." 


"  I  should  think  they'd  have  certainly  needed 
it,"  murmured  Mrs.  Ajax,  u  with  the  boat  rolling 
around  like  an  egg  on  a  plate  and  the  flocks  and 
herds  all  falling  off  the  ceiling  onto  Jared's 
brother's  head.  But  I'm  glad  to  know  at  last  how 
all  those  funny  little  burros  got  over  here.  Did 
they  have  things  like  that?  " 

"  All  them  things,  and  a  lot  more,"  was  the 
ready  response.  "  Ether  tells  about  it.  Chapter 
Nine,  Verse  Nineteen: 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   183 

"  '  And  they  also  had  horses,  and  asses,  and 
there  were  elephants  and  cureloms  and  cumoms;  all 
of  which  were  useful  unto  man;  and  more  espe 
cially  the  elephants  and  cureloms  and  cumoms!1 

"What  is  a  '  curelom'f "  Cobrita  asked  curi 
ously. 

The  Bishop  paused  and  considered.  "  I'm  sorry 
tu  say  there  ain't  a  very  great  deal  knowed  about 
cureloms"  he  confessed.  "  Y'u  see,  Miss,  that's 
the  only  time  they're  mentioned.  But  I  reckon  the 
cumoms  was  just  as  useful." 

By  this  time  Mrs.  Warder  had  recovered  from 
her  nervousness  and  meaning  looks  began  to  pass 
between  herself  and  Imogene.  In  the  face  of  a 
scattering  fire  of  history  Kansas  and  Pennsylvania, 
united,  dug  their  mines  and  swung  their  big  guns 
into  line. 

But  the  Bishop's  ardor,  in  the  light  of  possible 
conversions,  increased  rather  than  decreased  with 
his  argument  and  further  delvings  into  the  Book 
of  Mormon  yielded  stories  of  migrations,  legisla 
tive  disputes,  and  amazingly  destructive  wars. 

"  That  makes  four  hundred  and  thirty  thou 
sand  people  you've  killed  off  in  just  those  last  four 
verses,"  stated  Clarice  accurately.  "  Antionum 
and  his  ten  thousand  brought  it  up  to  one  hundred 


1 84  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

thousand,  and  Shiblem  with  his  ten,  and  Shem, 
and  Josh " 

"Who?"  asked  Imogene  sharply. 

The  Bishop  smiled  as  easily  as  the  others,  but 
with  superior  knowledge.  "  That's  nothing  tu 
wut  comes  later  when  they  gits  real  hosstyle " 

"  What  is  your  position  on  Polygamy?"  asked 
Mrs.  Warder  heavily  and  distinctly. 

The  Bishop  looked  slightly  disconcerted.  For 
the  first  time  he  seemed  to  feel  the  existence  of  an 
opposing  element  and  his  close-set  eyes  darted  a 
look  at  the  lady's  face.  There  was  nothing  there. 

"  Plurality  of  wives  is  ag'in  the  Law,"  he  an 
swered  sourly.  "  The  Commandment  was  give  tu 
the  Lamanites — Jacob,  Three,  Five.'1 

"  But  is  it  not  a  fact  that  many  of  you  are 
polygamists?  "  came  the  unevadable  question. 

u  Yes,  ma'am,"  he  answered,*  reddening.  "  I 
ain't  denying  that's  all  so,  but " 

u  Are  you  a  polygamist?"  persisted  the  relent 
less  Philadelphian. 

While  the  troubled  missionary  fumbled  for  a 
quasi-truthful  reply,  Imogene  advanced  an  in 
genious  theory. 

"  It's  mighty  hard  to  keep  servants  out  here. 
Perhaps " 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   185 

The  gale  of  protest  which  swallowed  up  the 
sentence  served  to  put  the  Bishop  on  his  feet 
again.  If  he  had  misgivings  as  to  Imogene's  sin 
cerity,  they  were  still  unnoticeable. 

"  I  ain't  stating  if  I  am  or  am  not,"  he  replied 
deviously.  "  Ether,  he  says,  l  The  Gentile  will 
mock  at  these  things  ' — and,  Twelve,  Twenty-five, 
1  Fools  shall  mock,  but  they  shall  mourn.5  " 

"Just  who  was  this  Ether  man?"  asked  Imo- 
gene,  growing  restive  under  the  insinuation. 

The  Bishop  ruffled  his  pages  zealously  and  got 
back  on  the  safe  ground  of  history  once  more. 
"  Ether  was  a  descendant  of  Coriantor,"  he  said: 

u  ( And  Coriantor  was  the  son  of  Moron, 
And  Moron  was  the  son  of  Ethem, 
And  Ethem  was  the  son  of  Ahah.'  " 

The  Bishop's  voice  settled  down  to  a  steady 
drone.  Verses  Ten,  Fifteen,  and  Twenty  clicked 
by  without  a  sign  of  fatigue.  So  did  Twenty-five 
and  Thirty  and  still  he  was  unwinded.  More 
than  one  auditor  heaved  a  sigh.  The  genealogical 
tree  of  Ether  was  certainly  no  scrubby  growth. 

"  '  And  Shule  was  the  son  of  Kib,'  "  read  the 
Bishop. 


1 86  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

"  Oh,  let  me  turn  the  crank  for  a  while,"  inter 
rupted  Imogene  irascibly.  "  I'll  bet  I've  read  that 
myself,  somewheres: 

"  And  Kib  was  the  son  of  Dub, 
And  Dub  was  the  son  of  Mutt, 
And  Mutt  was  the  son  of  Gun, 

And " 

"  That  sort  of  sounds  right,"  the  Bishop  said 
doubtfully,  "  but  still  it  ain't  quite  according 
tu " 

"  According  to  Ether,"  supplied  the  thoroughly 
wearied  Strong  Woman,  as  she  grappled  finally 
with  the  Bishop's  awakening  eye.  '  Well,  I  guess 
if  we've  got  to  take  *  Ether '  we  ain't  any  of  us  go 
ing  to  be  Mormons — not  before  dinner  time,  any 
way.  We'd  rather  take  chloroform!" 

With  Imogene's  last  word  the  strain  under 
which  they  labored  became  too  heavy  and  the 
group  of  women  broke  into  a  whirl  of  laughter. 
As  the  Bishop,  with  reddening  face,  clutched  his 
book  shut  and  sprang  to  his  feet,  the  unmistakable 
sounds  beat  upon  him  from  every  side.  Waves 
of  it  swept  over  him  and  gales  of  it  swirled  round 
him,  with  an  occasional  scream  of  delight  for  good 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   187 

measure.  Heartless  though  it  was,  the  sight  of 
Earnest  Man  discomfited  by  their  idling  selves 
was  too  much  for  their  gravity  and  they  laughed 
till  they  cried,  and  sent  up  blind  paeans  of  joy  from 
each  other's  shoulders. 

The  Bishop  stood  not  on  the  order  of  his  going. 
One  angry  look  behind  him  as  he  flung  away  down 
the  steps — one  red,  clenched  fist  brandished  im- 
potently  in  the  air  as  he  hastily  mounted  and  dis 
appeared  in  a  cloud  of  dust,  was  all  that  he  offered 
the  unregenerate  scoffers  as  farewell. 

Mr.  Peters,  having  seen  his  friendships  in  the 
Bull  Valley  Stake  lessened  forever  by  one,  chewed 
thoughtfully  on  a  blade  of  grass  and  betook  him 
self  elephantwards. 

"  Mebbe  that  will  remind  Moroni  of  that  mine 
he  got  me  tu  put  my  money  into  a  year  ago,"  he 
muttered.  "  It  was  all  the  money  I  had,  I  reckon. 
I  remember,  now,  I'd  saved  it  up  tu  send  away. 
But  was  it  last  year?"  He  paused  awhile  in  re 
flection.  "  Why,  no,  y'u  old  fool !  Nor  the  year 
before  that !  Nor  five  years.  Nor  ten !  "  Dry- 
bone's  face  tightened  up  like  a  withered  parch 
ment,  as  if  there  were  not  already  lines  enough. 
Something  blazed  up  within  him  for  a  moment — 
then  the  spasm  passed.  He  was  staring  off  across 


1 88   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

the  sleepy,  hazy  desert,  at  the  rocking  mountains 
and  the  blue-veiled  plain.  "  Oh,  well,"  said  Dry- 
bone.  "Oh,  well." 

Mrs.  Warder's  eyes  followed  the  cloud  of  dust 
that  rose  for  a  long  time  in  the  Bishop's  wake. 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  said  to  Imogene,  when 
the  two  were  alone,  "  I  don't  believe  the  Bishop 
was  surprised  one  bit  to  find  so  many  women  here. 
I  think  he  just  made  that  up.  I'm  quite  sure  he's 
been  thinking  of  this — er — er " 

"Outfit?" 

"  Oh,  thank  you.  (Dear  me,  what  a  funny  little 
word!)  This  outfit  as  a  fertile  field  for  proselyt 
ing  for  several  weeks.  You  see,  my  dear  Mrs. 
Boggs,  that  sort  of  thing  would  come  very 
naturally  to  a  circus." 

:<  Would  it?  "  and  the  Strong  Woman  began  to 
listen  with  acute  attention. 

u  Yes,"  the  other  continued,  all  unwarned. 
"  Ignorant  though  the  Bishop  undoubtedly  is,  he 
probably  knows  that  there  are  some  classes  more 
amenable  than  others  to  his  arguments  and  his 
polygamous  instincts  would  enable  him  to  find  them 
out.  I  have  often  thought  that  in  any  sphere  of 
life  where  there  is  a  tendency  towards — er — er 
carelessness  in — er — er " 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   189 

"  I'm  afraid  I  don't  quite  understand,"  said 
Imogene  with  a  heavy  frown. 

"  I  mean,"  said  Mrs.  Warder,  "  that  traveling 
actors  and  actresses  are  subject  to  great " 

"  SEE  HERE!  "  said  the  Strong  Woman  vigor 
ously;  "YOU  CAN  STOP  THAT  RIGHT 
NOW !  There's  something  wrong  here  that's  got 
to  be  cleared  up.  If  you  don't  think — if  anybody 
don't  think  that  circus  people  are  just  about  simon- 
pure  all  right  in  their  lives  it's  time  they  were  edu 
cated,  good  and  proper."  Whereupon  the  strong- 
eyed  Kansan  centered  the  other's  wavering  gaze 
and  delivered  herself  of  certain  forceful  remarks. 

Sometime  later  Amy  Radnor  came  upon  her 
aunt  sitting  all  alone  in  a  corner  of  the  veranda,  a 
look  of  mingled  fright  and  bewilderment  on  her 
face. 

"  Sit  down  by  me  here,  Amy,"  she  said  in  a 
fluttering  voice.  "  I  have  just  been  learning  some 
of  the  most  amazing  things." 

"  Have  you  been  talking  with  Imogene?  "  asked 
Amy  with  a  smile. 

"  I  have,"  her  aunt  replied,  "  and  she  tells  me 
now,  among  other  things,  that  *  Emperor,'  who  is 
a  big  snake  in  a  box  just  outside  my  door,  is  a 
great  pet  of  Miss  Cobrita,  who  is  going  to  marry 


190  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

the  younger  of  the  two  Italians.  Now,  the  curious 
part  of  it  is  that  Miss  Cobrita  is  so  attached  to 
this  snake  that  she  simply  cannot  bear  to  leave  it, 
or  even  dispose  of  it  in  any  way,  while  Angelo,  so 
Imogene  says,  has  no  use  for  snakes  in  the  house 
at  all.  So — and  I  must  say  I  think  it  uncommonly 
good  of  them — they're  going  to  put  off  their  mar 
riage  till  the  snake  dies!" 

A  heel  with  a  tinkling  spur  clinked  on  the 
threshold  behind  them,  and  Miss  Belvawney 
stepped  out  with  a  smile  and  an  affectionate  touch 
of  her  gauntleted  hand  on  Amy's  shoulder. 

Clarice  was  off  for  Moab  on  the  Polly  horse. 
Down  on  the  mesa  the  air  would  be  sweet  for.  an 
other  hour  before  the  sun  began  its  work;  the  long 
arroyo  beds  would  still  be  freshly  shadowed  on 
one  side.  Perhaps,  in  some  wind-still  nook,  she 
would  come  across  the  crimson  cup  of  a  cactus 
flower,  flaming  alone  in  a  bed  of  golden  sand.  But 
there  would  be  more  to  the  girl's  ride  than  this, 
for  when  the  wind  blew  across  the  plain  she  would 
turn  and  face  it  eagerly,  her  clear  eyes  opened 
wide,  her  red  lips  parted.  She  knew  whence  he 
came,  this  wondrous,  vast-bodied  lover, — blowing, 
blowing  unendingly  across  the  ranges.  Spiced  for  a 
day  in  palm-fringed  isles  and  salted  over  the  spar- 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   191 

kling  blue  miles  of  the  Pacific,  he  lingered  a  while, 
softening,  among  the  orange  groves,  and  then 
streamed  to  her  through  the  fingers  of  the  hazy 
peaks — cleaned  and  dried  and  tanged  with  the 
scent  of  far-off  worlds. 

She  threw  out  her  arms  to  him — this  unseen, 
formless,  never-failing  friend,  as  if  to  clutch  some 
thing  closer  to  her  strong  young  body.  When 
the  soft  fingers  brushed  her  cheek,  something  within 
her  wonderful  body  cried  out — an  unconscious 
hungering  for  motherhood — a  love  for  life  and 
life-giving — a  thirsting  to  give  and  to  keep  on  giv 
ing  back  her  vital  forces  into  this  marvelous  world. 

All  this  was  in  the  girl  as  she  stood  there  by  her 
pony  in  the  dazzling  morning  light — it  lay  in  the 
splendid  swell  of  her  shoulders  under  the  white 
waist,  in  the  fine  curve  of  her  back  and  hips.  Best 
of  all,  it  showed  in  her  shining  eyes  as  she  swung 
up  to  her  saddle  with  the  cavalry  mount  that 
Holly  had  taught  her.  And  Amy — poor  Amy — 
saw  it. 

'  That  young  person's  clothes  seem  to  fit  her 
rather  well,"  was  Mrs.  Warder's  comment  as  she 
took  up  her  work-bag.  "  Her  riding-skirt  even 
looked  tailor-made." 

"  But  it  isn't"  refuted  Amy  plaintively,  as  she 


192   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

turned  away  to  go  to  her  room.  "  She  sent  her 
measure  away  and  got  it  by  mail,  just  as  she  does 
everything,  and  when  they  come  she  simply  steps 
right  into  them.  And  I  have  to  take  in  and  take 
in  till  there's  no  end  to  it." 

It  was  not  yet  noon  when  Clarice  trotted  down 
Moab's  quiet  street  under  the  trees  and  tied  her 
pony  in  front  of  Buckner's  store.  She  had  come 
to  Moab  to  find  out,  once  for  all,  if  Macklin  had 
had  two  hundred  dollars  or  anything  like  that  sum 
that  day  in  February,  three  years  before,  when  he 
had  bought  his  outfit  to  go  prospecting.  Ever  since 
the  details  had  been  hers  to  know  the  girl  had 
felt  the  solution  of  the  problem  to  rest  on  this 
one  contingency,  and  the  time  had  come  when  her 
small  plots  must  be  carried  to  a  quick  finish.  Pass 
ing  behind  the  counter,  she  found  the  storekeeper 
behind  the  pigeon-holes  of  the  post  office,  frown 
ing  into  his  books  in  an  attempt  to  reconcile  his 
cash  with  the  contents  of  his  safe. 

"  Just  the  young  lady  I  was  looking  for,"  he 
remarked,  with  an  engaging  smile.  "  I'm  wonder 
ing  if  y'u  could  help  me  find  a  small  sum  in  these 
yere  accounts  of  mine?  There  seems  tu  be  a  small 
deeficit  in  the  Post-office  Cash  that  must  have 
slipped  into  the  store  till  some  way,  and — well — 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   193 

there's   a   chance    for    an    Inspector   soon — so    I 
thought " 

The  faintest  of  faint  gleams  showed  in  the  girTs 
eye.  "  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  help  you — provided 
it  doesn't  take  too  long,"  the  circus  woman  re 
plied,  and  forced  herself  to  draw  off  her  gauntlets 
with  languid  nonchalance.  The  luck  of  the  thing 
was  incredible !  Here  was  her  chance  all  made  to 
order,  and  fairly  screaming  to  her  to  be  taken  up ! 
She  almost  choked  with  emotion. 

"  How  did  you  balance  last  week?"  she  heard 
herself  asking,  and  smiled  at  the  man  as  she  never 
knew  she  smiled  at  anyone. 

"  Clost  tu  a  nickel,"  was  Buckner's  dazed  reply 
as  he  gave  up  his  rat's  nest  of  a  desk  to  the  radiant 
young  person  at  his  elbow.  "  That's  what's  got 
me  puzzled." 

"Please,  Mr.  Buckner,"  she  said  decisively, 
"  I  can't  help  you  at  all  if  you  stand  there  fussing 
with  things.  Give  me  your  books  and  the  correct 
cash  on  hand,  then  leave  me  alone  for  a  good 
half-hour.  Go  up  in  the  front  of  the  store  and 
don't  let  anyone  interrupt  me,  including  your  good 
self,"  she  added  firmly. 

"  That's  the  talk,"  was  the  man's  answer. 
"  You're  the  kind  of  a  woman  I'd  like  tu  have 


194  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

around  yere  all  the  time.  Help  yourself  tu  the 
safe — the  books  are  all  there.  And,  say — it's 
forty-seven-seventy  I'm  '  out,'  and  if  y'u  find 
it " 

"  If  I  find  it  I'll  keep  it,  so  run  along,  Mr.  Bad 
Bookkeeper,"  she  answered,  with  delicious  in 
solence,  and  fluttered  her  eyelids  over  a  blinding 
look.  "  If  I  want  you,  I'll  call  you — George." 

"  That's  it— call  me  '  George,'  "  said  the  father 
of  ten  incoherently,  and  walked  regretfully  away. 

Left  to  herself  in  the  frowsy  den  among  a  year's 
accumulation  of  postal  trash,  samples  of  groceries, 
and  dust-covered  invoices,  the  girl  felt  a  sudden 
thrill  of  fear.  Out  of  all  that  litter  of  useless 
records  she  had  to  find  one  small  book,  and  that 
book  more  than  three  years  old — the  day-book, 
not  the  ledger.  The  ledger  account  of  a  man  sus 
pected  of  a  crime  might  be  headed  in  a  dozen  dif 
ferent  ways,  but  the  yellow  counter-book  in  which 
the  storekeeper  hastily  penciled  his  memos  would 
probably  be  found  unaltered — if  it  were  found. 

For  five  frantic  minutes  the  woman  of  the  cir 
cus  dug  through  the  stack  of  records.  It  seemed 
as  if  the  storekeeper,  with  all  the  hoarding  in 
stincts  of  a  mountain  rat,  had  appropriated  every 
ownerless  article  that  had  caught  his  eye,  from  a 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   195 

seed  catalogue,  edited  by  a  joyous  optimist  wear 
ing  glasses  magnifying  to  ten  diameters,  to  a  was 
trel  copy  of  "  Proctor  Knott  on  Duluth."  Dis 
couraging  though  it  was  to  find  no  clue,  the  very 
accumulation  of  such  trash  seemed  to  argue  that 
the  book  was  somewhere  in  the  office,  and  so, 
after  a  cautious  look  down  the  room  at  Buckner 
nibbling  meditatively  on  a  prune,  she  dropped  on 
her  knees  before  the  safe. 

Hardly  had  she  done  so  when  her  hands  clutched 
at  a  stack  of  battered  volumes  which  filled  the 
middle  compartment — the  missing  day-books !  No 
longer  of  any  possible  use,  but  saved  up  against 
some  vague  emergency  with  the  same  miserly  in 
stincts  that  coveted  a  sample  cigar  sent  through 
the  mails — and  added  it  to  stock. 

Clarice  snatched  up  a  book  at  random  and 
flirted  back  its  cover.  "April,  1906,"  it  said. 
Ariother,  and  "August,  1905, "  met  her  eye. 
With  returning  exultation  she  dove  into  one  after 
another — searched  with  frantic  anxiety  for  Feb 
ruary,  1904 — and  found  it! 

Trembling  with  suspense,  the  girl  studied  the 
first  page,  turned  it  like  a  flash,  and  raced  down  the 
second.  "  Feb.  3rd,"  said  the  heading,  and  her 
careful  eyes  threaded  down  through  the  maze  of 


196  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

scrawls  until,  midway  on  the  yellow  page,  mis 
spelled  and  cramped,  blurred  almost  to  erasure, 
she  saw  the  longed-for  caption,  "  J.  Maklin." 

The  circus  woman  struggled  through  the  items 
one  by  one.  "  Bns"  she  read,  and  "Ben"  10 
libs— then  Cfee"  and  "  Tob,"  $1.00.  The  others, 
all  but  the  last,  were  undecipherable.  But  when 
she  had  interpreted  that  which  footed  the  page  and 
rounded  out  the  record  of  a  prospecting  trip  pre 
pared  for  in  the  usual  way,  she  found  evidence  of 
that  condition  chronic  among  most  prospectors  and 
without  exception  encountered  by  their  trustful 
backers.  "  Cash — $10.00." 

"  Cash,  ten  dollars"  Not  fifty,  nor  sixty,  nor 
two  hundred  dollars  borrowed  in  a  hasty  moment 
to  buy  another  man's  claim,  but  only — ten.  The 
girl's  eyes  grew  bright  with  victory.  SHE  HAD 
WON !  Instinctively  she  tore  the  leaf  from  the 
book  and  hid  it  in  her  waist. 

Voices  were  audible  inside  the  store  now,  and 
Buckner  was  coming  her  way  along  his  counter 
with  a  tall  stranger  at  his  heels,  but  in  place  of 
the  vivid  emotions  of  a  moment  ago  a  feeling  of 
angelic  calm  pervaded  Miss  Belvawney's  being, 
and  while  her  cool  glances  ran  down  the  store 
keeper's  attempt  at  a  balance,  she  smiled  sweetly 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   197 

to  herself  and  hummed  a  circus  tune.  Quickly 
finding  the  error,  she  tossed  her  pencil  away,  picked 
up  whip  and  gauntlets,  and  walked  out  into  the 
store. 

"  You  wrote  *  fifty-three  dollars '  instead  of 
*  five-thirty,'  "  she  said  with  a  laugh  which  joy 
turned  into  a  musical  ripple.  "  The  difference 
makes  your  forty-seven-seventy.  Which  will  you 
give  me — the  forty-seven,  or  the  seventy  ?  " 

"  Fine — fine !  "  exclaimed  the  store-man,  rub 
bing  his  hands  delightedly.  "  I'll  leave  all  that 
tu  y'u,  Miss  Clarice — or  just  help  yourself  tu  the 
candy  in  the  barrel.  Allow  me  tu  make  y'u  ac 
quainted  with  Mister — Mister " 

"  Whitley — Jack  Whitley  is  my  name,  sir,"  the 
stranger  responded  in  a  pleasant,  dignified  drawl, 
removing  his  hat  without  impairing  its  symmetrical 
dents  and  gazing  admiringly  at  the  girl  over  the 
hand  which  stroked  a  long  mustache. 

"  You're  a  stranger  here,  aren't  you,  Mr.  Whit 
ley?"  the  girl  asked  with  interest,  for  the  man 
reminded  her  strongly  of  Holly. 

"  I'm  down  here  from  Idyho,  ma'am,"  Mr. 
Whitley  made  haste  to  reply  under  the  uncon 
scious  challenge  of  the  girl's  wonderful  vigor. 
"  A  little  business  with  the  Sheriff,  maybe." 


198   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

"  So  you're  bad  up  in  Idaho,  too,"  mocked  the 
red-lipped  vision,  impudently,  while  compelling 
eyes  held  his  own  enchained.  "  You  don't  look 
like  a  bad  man,  Mr.  Whitley.  How  does  it  feel 
to  be  captured?" 

"  Oh,  it  ain't  me.  /  ain't  captured  at  all," 
stammered  the  blushing  victim.  "  Leastways,  not 
by  no  Sheriff,  ma'am.  I'm  seeing  that  if  I  stayed 
much  in  these  parts  I  might  try  a  little  '  captur 
ing  '  myself." 

"Then  you  are  after  someone.     Who  is  it?" 

"A  fellow  that  shot  a  man  down  here — a  long 
time  ago,"  the  Whitley  person  answered  helplessly, 
and  marveled  to  see  the  glorious  dark  eyes  open 
still  wider.  "  That's  why  I'm  going  to  Bullion- 
field — on  the  quiet,"  he  added  freely,  then  realized 
it  would  be  no  longer  "  on  the  quiet." 

"  But  you're  surely  not  going  over  there  to 
day?"  the  beautiful  stranger  queried,  while  the 
eyes  beguiled  the  Whitley  heart  again.  u  It's  a 
long  ride  without  watering — forty  miles  or  more. 
You  go  near  the  Holly  Ranch,  you  know.  Per 
haps — — "  She  left  the  sentence  in  the  air  and, 
with  an  arch  glance,  hurried  towards  the  door  and 
escape.  He  was  a  very  good-looking  man,  with 
his  down-drooping  mustache  and  his  pleasantly 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   199 

respectful  eyes — for  a  short-time  flirtation  Clarice 
felt  that  she  had  probably  broken  all  known 
records. 

"  I  don't  know  just  where  that  '  Holly  '  ranch 
is/'  a  pleasant  voice  remarked  with  amused  mean 
ing  as,  with  her  pony  untied,  she  turned  to  mount 
and  found  him  holding  her  stirrup,  "  but  if  to 
morrow  ever  comes  I  reckon  it'll  be  mighty  hard 
not  to  find!  " 

Some  time  during  the  night  of  this  eventful 
day  the  light-sleeping  Miss  Radnor  was  wakened 
by  a  touch  and  a  whisper.  Starting  up  nervously 
among  her  pillows,  she  was  amazed  to  find  Miss 
Belvawney  kneeling  by  her  bedside. 

"  Amy,  dearest,"  said  Clarice,  "  I  do  hate  to 
wake  you  up,  but  there's  something  I  simply  must 
know.  It's  very  important.  It's  more  than  that," 
and  her  hand  went  over  the  coverlet  to  clutch  the 
other's,  "  it's  really  terribly  serious." 

"  Mercy  my!  "  ejaculated  the  thin  girl  wonder- 
ingly.  "  What  is  it,  Clarice  dear?  " 

"Well,"  said  Clarice,  in  a  whisper,  "  Amy, 
this  is  it.  Are  you  a  good  flirt?  " 

The  Philadelphian  gasped  indignantly  and  sat 
bolt  upright  in  bed.  "  Do  you  mean  to  say  that 
you  waked  me  up  in  the  middle  of " 


200  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

**  S-s-s-s-h !  "  commanded  the  Belvawney  as  she 
put  a  warning  finger  to  her  lips,  her  eyes  big  and 
lustrous  in  the  moonlight.  "  This  isn't  a  joke. 
I'm  in  dead  earnest " 

"Why!"  broke  in  Amy.  "You've  got  your 
riding  things  on!  Where  are  you  going  at  this 
time  of  night?" 

The  circus  girl's  gauntlet  tightened  on  Amy's 
wrist.  "  Never  mind  where.  I've  left  a  note  tied 
to  the  kitchen  stove-lifter  for  Imogene  that  ex 
plains.  All  I  want  to  know  is — will  you  help 
me?" 

The  thin  girl's  lips  twitched  with  laughter  and 
she  dropped  down  among  her  pillows  again  and 
stared  at  the  tragic  face. 

"  There's  a  man  coming  here  to-morrow !  "  the 
Belvawney  whispered  dramatically.  "  I've  forgot 
ten  his  name,  but  he  has  a  nice  mustache — per 
haps  he'll  ask  for  me.  The  minute  you  see  him 
go  right  out  and  say,  '  I  don't  know  where  she  is, 
but  I  think  she  will  be  home  very  soon ' — and 
then  keep  him  here  as  long  as  ever  you  can.  Now, 
PROMISE!" 

"  I  promise,"  said  Amy  with  a  choke.  "  Please 
don't  break  my  hand  all  to  pieces.  Oh,  come 
here,  silly — don't  run  away.  CLARICE!  Tell 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  201 

me  something.  Don't  you  love  him  ter 
ribly?" 

"O-h-h-h-h!  Do  you  think  I'd  do  this  if  I 
didn't?  "  and  she  dropped  on  her  knees  and  flung 
a  hugging  arm  round  the  other.  "  Oh !  Amy,  isn't 
it  splendid  when  you  love  someone?  You  just 
want  to  sacrifice — and  give  up — and  work — and 
be  devoured  by  fire  or  drowned  in  ice-water  if  it 
will  do  any  good.  Sometimes  it  makes  you  feel, 
oh,  so  strong!  And  then,  almost  right  away,  your 
knees  get  wobbly  and  you  just  turn  into  a  cobble 
stone  inside.  And  one  minute  he's  looking  at  you 
in  the  most  wonderful  way,  and  you  feel  as  if  you 
were  floating  on  a  lovely  pink  cloud,  eating  ice 
cream  smothered  in  violets,  and  the  next  thing 
you  know  something  terrible  happens  and  every 
thing  goes  to  pieces,  and  you  see  that  he  doesn't 
love  you,  after  all, — and — oh-h-h !  "  The  circus 
woman's  cry  sounded  perilously  like  despair,  her 
soft  lips  brushed  the  other's  cheek,  she  gave  a  last 
convulsive  squeeze,  and  stood  up,  flicking  her  whip 
against  her  spurred  heel. 

Under  the  flooding  moonlight  the  pale  oval 
of  her  face,  framed  in  the  masses  of  dark  hair 
against  her  sombrero,  seemed  to  glow  with  an  un 
earthly  beauty.  Her  eyes  were  like  lustrous  pools 


202  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

in  a  creamy  blur  that  was  marked  out  only  by  the 
freshness  of  her  lips.  All  the  eagerness,  the  daring, 
the  flashing  elan  of  her  wild  spirit  were  in  her  un 
conscious  pose.  To  the  timid  Easterner  she  seemed 
a  beautiful  creature,  all  fire  and  light,  or  like 
some  bright  blade  flashing  from  its  scabbard  to 
a  comrade's  aid.  And  soon  this  wonderful  per 
son  would  be  out  there  all  alone  on  the  desert, 
riding  on  and  on  in  the  blue-gray  stillness  under 
the  stars,  fearless  of  accidents  or  distance  or  los 
ing  her  way;  steadily  pressing  on  into  the  night 
to  help  the  man  she  loved. 

"  Well"  said  the  adoring  thin  one  impetuously 
as  she  pounded  her  pillow  with  ferocity,  "  youVe 
got  me  so  stirred  up  that  I'll  never  sleep  again, 
which  will  probably  mar  my  fatal  beauty  for  its 
work  to-morrow,  but  I'll  do  my  best  to  fascinate 
the  unknown.  The  man  who  wouldn't  fall  in  love 
with  you  on  sight  is  an  idiot." 


CHAPTER  X 

OVER  in  Bullionfield  Dick  Holly,  Wiley  the 
superintendent,  and  the  two  Warders,  still  proudly 
wearing  their  candle-greased  khaki,  were  gathered 
around  the  drafting-table  in  the  office  of  the  Yel 
low  Dog.  A  box  of  cigars,  a  syphon,  a  bowl  of 
cracked  ice,  and  a  bottle  of  rye  stood  on  the  table 
among  the  maps  and  blue-prints.  Now  and  then 
Wiley  puffed  smoke  across  a  map  while  he  esti 
mated  a  distance  and  answered  a  question. 

"  You  see,"  Holly  explained  to  Warder,  "  we 
had  to  prove  ourselves  free  of  the  Atlas  vein  at 
either  one  time  or  other.  Now  that  we've  done 
it  we  know  where  we  stand.  Nobody  stands  a 
ghost  of  a  show  in  buying  the  Atlas  for  an  apex 
claim  now;  in  fact,  I  wouldn't  let  a  white  man 
waste  his  money.  But  while  this  Macklin  man 
has  got  good  ground,  we'll  have  to  keep  him  from 
knowing  just  how  good  it  is.  If  we  close  this 
deal  to-morrow  it  won't  be  a  minute  too  soon. 
Some  night  one  of  our  tunnel  men  will  get  full  and 
it  will  all  come  out.  Every  hour  we  leave  this 
thing  open  raises  the  chances  against  us." 

203 


204  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

Warder,  not  knowing  what  was  in  the  other's 
mind,  only  thought  fifteen  thousand  rather  high 
for  an  undeveloped  claim. 

"  He'll  take  whatever  we  give  him,"  he  said 
shrewdly.  "  We've  got  him  going." 

"  I'd  rather  pay  the  difference  between  fifteen 
and  five  than  lose  the  chance  at  several  hundred 
thousand,"  was  the  reply.  "  And  if  anything  hap 
pens  and  he  finds  out  what  we've  proved,  where  will 
all  these  other  properties  soar  to — Red  Rock  and 
Daisy  and  Atlas  Extension?  It  would  look  like 
the  start  of  that  balloon  race  you  took  me  to  see 
in  Fairmount  Park." 

"  Right,"  was  the  laconic  answer.  "  We'll  get 
busy  and  close  it  up  to-morrow.  Probably  some 
of  those  other  claims  could  also  be  picked  up  at 
fairly  cheap  figures." 

Up  until  this  time  Biddle  had  followed  the 
trend  of  the  plans  fairly  well,  but  after  his  sec 
ond  highball,  he  remembered  that  while  the  mine 
had  been  explored  the  town  of  Bullionfield  was  still 
uninvestigated. 

"And  so  you  think  we  might  take  in  the  Ex 
tension  to  advantage?"  his  father  was  saying. 
"Oh,  going  out,  Biddle?" 

"  Just  for  some  cigarettes,"  the  boy  replied. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  205 

*'  I'm  sorry  we  don't  inhale,"  his  father  com 
mented.  "  Better  load  up  with  good  cigars  before 
you  go.  Well,  now  about  this  Atlas  Exten 
sion "  and  the  door  swung  shut  upon  the 

smoked-wreaflied  three. 

It  was  the  Easterner's  first  experience  in  a  min 
ing  camp,  and  as  he  picked  his  way  down  the 
shadowy  trail  towards  the  town  shining  in  the 
gulch  below  under  a  flood  of  moonlight,  he 
breathed  the  sweet  night  air  with  a  new  zest.  The 
blurred  ranges  rimming  the  basin  with  their  dark 
bulk,  the  vague  desert  sweeping  off  to  the  north, 
with  its  suggestions  of  freedom  and  hidden  wealth 
and  solitude,  began  to  fascinate  him.  He  felt 
himself  truly  on  the  fringe  of  civilization,  in  a 
remote  nook  of  the  world  where  Young  Blood  and 
Chance  and  Danger  ran  their  riotous  course  unre 
strained. 

Thus  it  was  the  Silver  Grill,  instead  of  the  dingy 
lobby  of  the  hotel,  which  claimed  him  and  the 
few  gold  pieces  he  fed  onto  its  green  cloth,  and 
after  that,  the  Green  Front  and  the  Lone  Star 
and  the  dubious  Red  Onion.  In  the  latter  place 
he  watched  until  the  silent  Chesterfield  who  pre 
sided  over  the  faro  game  had  turned  up  the 
"  low  "  card  thrice  in  succession.  Then  Biddle 


206  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

delved  into  his  pocket  and  quickly  bet  on  the 
"  high/'  brusquely  thrusting  his  hand  over  the 
shoulders  of  the  wordless  devotees  and  dropping 
his  coin  on  the  table  with  a  noisome  clatter  that 
plainly  disturbed  their  meditations.  Whereupon 
the  heavy-eyed  dealer  rebuked  him,  with  a  slow, 
estimating  look  and  further  rebuked  him,  much  to 
his  distress,  by  turning  up  the  low  card  some  six 
times  running. 

"  I've  saw  it  do  that  and  then  get  worse,"  a 
sympathetic  voice  murmured  nearby.  An  engag 
ing  individual,  the  brilliancy  of  whose  smile  was 
slightly  dimmed  by  a  three  days'  beard,  was  walk 
ing  at  his  side.  Rather  pleased  than  otherwise  to 
have  a  companion,  Biddle  found  himself  replying, 
and  by  means  of  unconscious  mind-readings,  or 
else  it  was  the  genial  one's  impelling  elbow,  they 
presently  arrived  at  the  bar.  While  they  stood 
there  it  was  seen  that  the  man  had  but  one 
eye. 

"  A  little  whirl  at  the  games  comes  easy  to  us 
mining  men,"  the  new  friend  remarked  in  tones 
that  reminded  Biddle  that  he  was  now  of  that  pro 
fession.  '  The  minute  I  see  you  I  says  to  myself, 
1  There's  a  natural  born  gambler — mines  or  cyards 
— he  don't  care  which.'  " 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  207 

"  No,"  said  Biddle  languidly,  "  it's  all  the  same 
to  me.  When  I'm  tired  of  one  I  go  to  the 
other." 

"Exactly,"  and  the  man  doubled  up  with  a 
noiseless  laugh.  "  That's  the  way  they  tell  us — 
the  world  over.  But  speaking  of  mines,  now," 
and  he  deftly  extracted  a  fragment  of  rock  from 
his  pocket,  "  as  one  mining  man  to  another,  what 
would  be  your  opinion  on  that?  " 

Biddle's  skin  prickled  a  little,  but  he  took  the 
rock  and  studied  it.  "  Fairly  high-grade,  I  should 
say.  Where  did  it  come  from?  " 

The  unknown  clutched  at  his  elbow. 

"  Pardner,"  he  said  in  hushed  tones,  "  you'll 
never  believe  it!  Right  off  this  hill  behind  us! 
I  knocked  that  rock  off  the  outcrop  of  the  Atlas 
Extension  at  four  o'clock  this  very  afternoon." 
He  glanced  warily  about,  then  nudged  the  other. 
"  Let's  take  a  mope,"  he  said.  "  This  place  is  too 
popular." 

Once  on  the  street  the  one-eyed  man  exploded 
with  excitement.  "  I  struck  it  just  by  luck,"  he 
whispered  hoarsely.  "  I've  got  an  option  on  the 
claim  for  a  few  thousand  dollars  and  was  picking 
around  up  there  and  found  this  bully  little  rock." 
He  paused  and  then  gave  vent  to  a  cynical  laugh. 


208   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

"  It's  great  big  luck,  all  right,  and  yet  it  ain't 
luck  at  all — fer  me.  But  even  if  I  can't  make 
good  on  the  option,  do  you  figger  I'd  tell  them 
what  they've  got — and  have  them  open  up  a  lead 
of  picture  rock — and  let  them  lah-di-dah  around 
in  their  ottomobiles  and  take  their  trips  to  old 
New  York  and  gay  Paree  ?  Do  you  reckon  I'd  let 
them  get  away  with  a  good  thing  like  this?  No, 
sir.  No,  sirree!  I  ain't  that  partickler  kind  of 
an  oyster,  no  I  ain't !  I  just  says  to  myself,  says 
I,  *  You're  broke  and  you  know  it,  all  along  of 
cyards  and  sech  trash,  but  mebbe  if  you'll  stay 
sober  long  enough  you'll  find  some  feller  that 
knows  good  dirt  and  he'll  take  it  off  your  hands 
and  give  you  a  little  something  for  your  trouble. 
And  if  you  don't  find  any  feller  like  that,  then 
you  lay  almighty  low  and  squirm  around  and  try 
every  way  you  kin  to  get  that  there  option  ex 
tended " 

"What  was  the  purchase  price?"  Biddle 
broke  in. 

u  Three  thousand  iron  men,"  was  the  mourn 
ful  reply.  "  It's  a  regular  crime,  now,  ain't  it? 
Oh,  you  can't  take  a  look  at  that  little  rock  and 
tell  me.  No,  sirree.  You  know  too  much  about 
these  things  and  so  do  I." 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   209 

The  one-eyed  man  clutched  off  his  hat  and  ran 
his  hand  despairingly  through  his  hair,  while  his 
single  orb  rolled  in  a  fine  frenzy. 

"Why,  Sacred  Pickles!"  he  moaned;  "if 
there  ain't  but  an  inch  over  three  foot  of  that  ore 
she's  worth  fifty  thousand  of  any  man's  money! 
But,  pardner — look  at  me !  Look  at  them  shoes ! 
Mebbe  they  really  are  shoes — and  mebbe  it's  only 
a  compliment  to  my  family.  And  look  at  this  yere 
hat!  Some  calls  it  a  hat,  but  the  top  falls  in  and 
the  brim  flops  up  and  rightly  considered  it  ain't  a 
gentleman's  hat  at  all.  But  don't  look  at  the  hat 
— look  at  me — with  every  red  cent  in  the  world 
foolished  away  at  '  Stud '  and  then  tell  a  feller 
what  he's  going  to  do.  Oh,  /  know — just  as  well 
as  you.  I've  got  to  sell  and  I've  got  to  sell  cheap, 
but  I  tell  you  it  hurts!" 

Standing  there  in  the  moonlight  before  so 
faultless  an  exhibition  of  despair,  the  Philadel- 
phian  began  to  thrill  a  little  over  his  remarkable 
luck.  Three  thousand  dollars  would  be  a  very 
low  figure  for  a  claim  in  the  Yellow  Dog  group, 
and  fully  two  thousand  less  than  his  father  was 
willing  to  pay.  Biddle  began  to  see  an  opportu 
nity  for  a  small  deal  inside  the  family.  Another 
moment  and  he  had  decided.  All  these  mining 


210  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

matters  had  to  be  handled  decisively  and  quickly, 
he  knew. 

"What  do  you  want  for  your  option?"  he 
asked. 

The  eye  ceased  its  rolling  and  grew  almost  tear 
ful.  There  were  profane  lamentations  and  men 
tion  of  five  hundred  dollars. 

u  I'll  give  you  two  hundred,*'  said  Biddle. 

The  one-eyed  man  exhibited  his  soleless  shoes 
again  and  laughed  a  bitter  laugh.  "  She's  all 
yours,"  he  answered  mournfully.  "  You  couldn't 
let  me  have  part  of  it  to-night,  could  you?  I'll 
give  you  a  quit  claim  to  my  rights  when  we  go  be 
fore  a  Notary  in  the  morning." 

"  I  don't  mind,"  said  Biddle.  "  By  the  way, 
what  did  you  say  your  name  was?" 

"  Brewster,"  said  the  one-eyed  man.  "  I 
reckon  I  don't  know  you  so  very  well,  either." 

u  My  name  is  Warder,"  the  Philadelphian  re 
plied. 

"  No  wonder  you  wanted  that  option,"  the  other 
exclaimed  with  an  admirable  start.  "  I  ort  to 
have  stood  out  for  more." 

"  Too  late  now,"  said  Biddle,  quickly  passing 
over  some  bills. 

"  Yep.     Too  late  now,"  sighed  Mr.  Brewster, 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  211 

accepting  the  money  with  profound  regret.  "  But 
that's  the  way  she  goes.  Well,  good-night!  See 
you  in  the  morning — right  here  on  this  very  spot 
— at  eight  o'clock.  Now,  don't  forget !  " 

As  Biddle  climbed  the  trail  to  the  office  he 
could  hardly  repress  his  exultation.  People  would 
learn  more  about  him  and  his  eye  to  opportunities 
in  the  morning. 

"This  desert  is  certainly  a  great  place,"  he  re 
marked  genially  to  Holly,  meditating  alone  on  the 
porch.  "  I  wasn't  much  for  it  at  first,  but  now 
I  see  there's  something  in  it,  after  all." 

"  It  takes  a  little  work  sometimes  to  get  it  out," 
the  other  replied  gravely.  "  But  it  is  pleasant  to 
hear  that  you  have  become  interested  in  the  min 
ing  idea." 

"  Mining  is  all  right,"  said  Biddle.  "  I  used 
to  think  it  was  principally  luck,  but  I  consider  now 
that  all  it  needs  is  the  same  cold,  hard  sense  you 
would  apply  to  any  commercial  proposition." 

"  Yes.  '  Sense  '  is  good,"  admitted  the  ranch 
man,  "  and  sometimes  it's  lucky  to  have  a  sort  of 
'  sixth  '  sense  hanging  round.  A  newspaper  man 
once  told  me  that  mining  was  c  the  science  of  in 
telligent  conjecture.'  Wasn't  it  funny  how  he  got 
to  know  all  that?  They  were  mighty  big  words 


212  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

for  just  a  little  pay-ore.  Did  you  find  something 
of  interest  in  our  little  town?  " 

"  I  think  so,"  said  Diddle,  feeling  that  the 
other  was  a  little  too  strong  for  him.  "Good 
night." 

The  moon  rode  higher  into  the  violet  vault  and 
filled  the  star-shot  night  with  a  gray  gleaming. 
Under  its  softening  touch  the  squat  cabins  of  the 
town,  blurred  into  shadowy  picturesqueness, 
seemed  to  huddle  together  on  the  hillside  like  a 
band  of  night-herded  cattle,  while  vague  in  the 
opaline  mystery  of  the  desert,  the  giant  bulk  of 
the  mountains  rose  up  as  if  from  the  wash  of  a 
silent,  blue-gray  sea. 

It  had  come  to  Holly,  and  not  without  a  sense 
of  relief,  that  he  wouldn't  be  able  to  prove  any 
thing  against  old  Joey,  after  all.  His  investiga 
tors  having  brought  him  nothing  definite  so  far,  he 
further  knew  that  the  Sheriff's  evidence  would  be 
similarly  weak,  and  he  only  feared  the  latter's 
actions  for  the  useless  stir  they  would  produce. 
The  thing  to  do  right  now  was  to  get  the  old  man 
out  of  camp  so  that  no  accident  could  ever  reveal 
his  identity  to  Clarice.  But  if,  on  the  other  hand, 
Jake  decided  to  take  the  man  into  custody  without 
any  genuine  proof — well,  the  desert  was  wide  and 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  213 

trails  were  dim.  Twenty-four  hours'  start  and 
Jake  would  have  a  job  on  his  hands — the  girl 
asleep  over  there  behind  the  hills  was  going  to  be 
kept  unsullied  at  all  hazards  even  if  Dick  Holly 
had  to  break  the  law  to  do  it. 

A  figure  sauntered  up  the  trail  with  its  hands 
in  its  pockets  and  drew  near  to  the  house  by 
leisurely  progressions. 

Holly  took  his  feet  down  from  the  railing  and 
shouldered  up  out  of  his  chair.  "  Hello,  there, 
Jake.  Come  up  and  sit  down." 

"I  reckon  not,"  said  the  Sheriff.  "I  only 
wanted  tu  tell  y'u  that  I  can't  hold  off  any  longer 
— my  man  Whitley  will  be  here  to-morrow.  If 
you're  figuring  on  a  little  jumping — well,  it's  a 
nice,  clear  night — you'd  better  go  tu  it." 

"  No  use,"  said  the  ranchman  crisply.  "  You 
haven't  got  anything  on  him,  and  neither  have  I. 
Take  my  advice,  partner,  and  give  it  up.  The 
trail's  too  old." 

"  The  boys  are  looking  for  doings,"  the  Sheriff 
replied. 

"  Jake,"  broke  in  Holly  strongly,  "  why  don't 
you  let  this  fellow  go?  He's  an  old  man  and 
can't  do  any  harm.  Why  not  call  it  off?  You 
know  me  and  you  know  that  if  there  was  the  ghost 


2i4  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

of  a  show  to  get  that  claim  without  paying  for  it 
I'd  take  it  quicker  than  One-eyed  Brewster  will 
take  a  drink.  What  does  this  man  of  yours  know 
about  Macklin,  anyway?" 

u  It's  more  what  he  knows  about  Danny  Drew," 
was  Jake's  surprising  reply.  "  Macklin  claims  he 
bought  Drew  out,  but  this  man  says  Drew  wrote 
him  the  day  he  left  tu  go  prospecting  and  refused 
tu  sell  the  Atlas  at  any  price" 

uOh,  well,"  retorted  Holly  good-humoredly, 
"  you  know  and  I  know  that  the  average  pros 
pector  isn't  real  happy  until  he  can  refuse  a  big 
offer  and  then  accept  ten  per  cent,  of  it  six  months 
later.  Why,  Charley  Phillips  over  in  the  Booster 
office  has  a  pet  sentence  set  up  all  the  time  waiting 
for  some  new  strike  so  that  he  can  say,  '  It  is  re 
ported  that  the  owners  of  this  claim  have  already 
refused  an  offer  going  well  into  six  figures.'  I 
guess  your  letter-writing  friend  is  only  accept 
ing  a  chance  to  inspect  a  new  camp  free  of  ex 
pense." 

"  I'm  just  tellin'  y'u,"  the  Sheriff  retorted.  "  I 
didn't  know  y'u  were  figurin'  on  being  particeps 
criminis,  Dick.  Y'u  couldn't  favor  the  old  rat 
more  if  y'u  were  soft  on  his  daughter — I've  heard 
he  had  a  family,"  with  which  unanswerable  re- 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   215 

mark  the  Law  in  Bullionfield  put  its  hands  back 
in  its  pockets  and  meandered  pensively  away. 

The  ranchman  watched  the  departing  figure  with 
a  thoughtful  expression  on  his  face.  So  there  was 
a  case  against  Macklin,  after  all.  The  fat  was 
in  the  fire  with  a  vengeance !  It  would  take  quick 
work  to-morrow  to  save  it.  "  Good  old  Jake," 
he  murmured  as  he  turned  away  to  bed.  "  He's 
been  mighty  square  with  me.  Too  bad  I've  got 
to  fool  him  now." 

When  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  came  Biddle 
was  wide  awake  and  by  seven  he  was  shaved  and 
dressed  and  looking  out  of  his  window  at  the 
town.  Viewed  in  the  searching  light  of  a  Nevada 
morning,  the  camp  seemed  to  lack  some  of  the 
flavor  it  had  owned  under  darkness,  but  he  had 
no  trouble  in  picking  out  the  Red  Onion,  where 
Mr.  Brewster  would  be  waiting  for  him  at  eight 
sharp,  the  more  easily  because  the  daily  stage  for 
Ami  was  at  that  moment  about  to  start  from  the 
same  spot.  There  seemed  to  be  some  slight  de 
lay  in  leaving  this  morning,  but  after  a  partially 
intoxicated  passenger  had  finally  been  induced  to 
forsake  the  enticements  of  the  hostelry,  the  driver 
let  his  brake  go  with  a  slam,  and  the  stage  de 
parted. 


216  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

Biddle  arrived  in  front  of  the  Red  Onion  at 
eight-five.  At  eight-fifteen,  there  being  no  Mr. 
Brewster  in  sight,  he  looked  inside.  At  eight- 
thirty  he  was  strolling  up  and  down  the  street, 
the  better  to  rid  himself  of  a  disturbing  sus 
picion.  At  nine  o'clock  he  walked  into  the  Onion 
and  asked  abruptly  if  Mr.  Brewster  had  been  seen 
that  day. 

The  bartender  appraised  him  with  a  competent 
eye  and  continued  polishing  his  glasses.  After  a 
proper  interval,  during  which  it  was  borne  in 
on  the  Philadelphian  that  in  these  Western  States 
your  true  gentleman  is  jealous  of  his  poise,  he 
was  asked  if,  perchance,  it  might  be  Mr.  "  One- 
eyed  "  Brewster  whom  he  sought. 

"  He  certainly  had  one  eye,"  said  Biddle  iras 
cibly.  "  And  somebody's  got  a  hundred  dollars  of 
my  good  money." 

At  this  the  barman  raised  his  eyebrows  a  frac 
tion  of  an  inch  and  coughed  faintly.  "  I'm  right 
glad  y'u  mentioned  that,"  he  said  with  some  re 
lief.  "  One-eye  and  his  curious  hundred  dollars 
had  us  so  puzzled  last  night  that  we  were  all 
counting  our  rolls.  I  guess  I  can  locate  at  least 
part  of  it  for  you." 

"  Oh,  you  can?"  said  Biddle  hopefully. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  217 

"  Yes,"  said  the  other  thoughtfully.  "  I  know 
I've  got  about  twenty-five  of  it — and  the  grave 
yard  shift  on  the  faro  bank  took  in  ten  more. 
That  would  make,  say,  thirty-five.  Then,  the 
stage  fare  from  here  to  Ami  is  five — that's  forty 

altogether "  He  paused  and  frowned  over  a 

disgusting  possibility.  "  I  wonder  if  it's  really 
possible  that  we  let  One-eye  get  away  from  us 
with  sixty  real  dollars  in  his  clothes?" 

Biddle  waited  to  hear  no  more.  As  he  passed 
out  into  the  street  he  stepped  on  something 
that  rolled  under  his  foot,  and  when  he  looked 
down  angrily  he  recognized  it  as  the  one-eyed 
man's  fragment  of  "  high-grade,"  which,  having 
served  its  purpose,  had  been  blithely  tossed  away. 
With  a  faintly  tingling  sensation  about  his  ears 
Biddle  realized  that  it  was  entirely  unnecessary  to 
make  inquiry  into  the  ownership  of  the  Atlas 
Extension,  or  as  to  certain  valuable  options  that 
would  presently  expire.  He  had  been  gulled  as 
easily  as  any  yokel  who  ever  raised  the  walnut- 
shell  to  find  the  little  pea. 

Retracing  his  steps  to  the  mine  office,  his  dis 
comfiture  was  not  lessened  by  the  fact  that  his 
father  and  the  two  miners  were  waiting  for  him 
in  a  rather  pregnant  silence. 


2i8   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

"  Biddle,"  said  his  father,  with  a  strange,  sharp 
note  in  his  voice,  "  what's  this  we  hear  about 
your  going  around  town  last  night  buying  up 
claims  ?" 

"  I  didn't  buy  any  claims,"  the  son  answered 
with  a  troubled  look.  "  I  was  just — just  trying 
to  get  an  option,  that  was  all." 

"Oh,  you  and  your  options!"  his  father 
barked  angrily.  "  Do  you  know  what  you  with 
your  kid  notions  have  done  to  us  ?  You've  got  the 
whole  town  laughing  over  the  way  this  man  skinned 
you  out  of  your  money  and  you've  raised  the  price 
of  every  claim  we  wanted  by  at  least  a  hundred  per 
cent.  And  that  isn't  all,  by  any  means." 

"  Wha-wha-what's  the  matter  now?"  faltered 
Biddle,  unable  to  take  his  eyes  from  his  father's 
reddened  face. 

"  The  matter's  just  this,"  roared  Warder,  shak 
ing  a  lead  pencil  under  his  son's  nose.  "  You 
snapped  at  the  Atlas  Extension  so  hard  that  Mack- 
lin  will  go  up  in  the  air  again  and  we'll  never  get 
him  down.  If  you  wanted  to  be  the  cause  of  my 
losing  fifty  thousand  dollars,  why,  in  the  name  of 
Time  didn't  you  say  so,  and  I'd  have  given  you 
the  money.  If  you  want  any  more  of  your  precious 
options,  for  Heaven's  sake  go  out  on  a  dry  lake 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   219 

and  mine  for  crab  apples,  where  you'll  be  out  of 
the  way." 

The  father's  keen  eye  searched  his  son's  face 
for  a  moment  longer.  "  If  I  thought  you  were 
really  trying  anything  funny  I'd  ship  you  back  to 
Philadelphia,"  he  said  in  calmer  tones.  "  I  guess 
you've  got  to  be  educated.  This  business  we're 
in  is  a  little  different  from  sewing  rabbits  on  a 
card  in  a  kindergarten." 

Holly  pointed  out  of  the  window. 

"  Here  comes  Patterson  with  Joey  now.  Per 
haps  we  can  do  something  along  the  original  lines 
in  spite  of  his  rainbow  ideas." 

"  I  hope  so,"  remarked  Warder  pere.  "  I  don't 
want  you  to  lose  money  on  my  account.  Come 
right  in,  Mr.  Macklin." 

The  moment  Macklin  stepped  inside  the  door 
the  ranchman  knew  that  something  had  happened. 
The  old  man's  beard  was  as  matted  as  before  and 
his  nose  was  as  red  as  ever,  but  the  confident  light 
in  his  eye  was  too  strong  to  proceed  from  so  small 
a  thing  as  Biddle's  mistake.  At  other  times  the 
arrogance  with  which  the  Atlas  man  tilted  his 
chair  back  and  smilingly  produced  a  cigar  would 
have  been  only  ridiculous,  but  this  time  it  was 
backed  up  by  something  tangible.  Holly  thought 


220  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

of  the  two  precious  weeks  wasted  while  he  was 
hunting  for  evidence  that  now  he  couldn't  use, 
and  his  lips  tightened.  He  wondered  why  Fate 
had  concentrated  the  source  of  all  his  troubles  in 
this  miserable  shell  of  a  man,  and  yet  tantalizingly 
stood  him  off  from  a  decent  vengeance. 

"  Joey,"  said  he,  "  we  all  know  what  we're  here 
for  and  we  might  as  well  get  down  to  business. 
As  I  told  you  two  weeks  ago,  the  Yellow  Dog 
Company  is  ready  to  buy  your  Atlas  claim. 
We'll  give  you  fifteen  thousand  dollars,  spot 
cash." 

The  old  man's  lips  parted  in  a  knowing  and 
unpleasantly  ugly  grin.  "  Push  it  up,"  he  said 
laconically.  "  Y'u  offered  me  forty  thousand  once 
— y'u'll  offer  it  again." 

"  Feeling  pretty  strong  this  morning,  are  you?  " 
the  ranchman  asked  ironically.  "  Where  do  you 
get  these  ideas?" 

Macklin  puffed  out  a  cloud  of  smoke  and  held 
his  cigar  aloft  between  two  crooked  talons.  u  I 
gets  my  ideas  from  two  things,"  he  answered 
with  studied  insolence,  "  and  the  fust  of  'em  is  that 
since  last  night  proputties,  generally,  in  this  yere 
camp  has  nz." 

"We're   here   for  business,   not   foolishness," 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  221 

said  Holly  sharply.  "What's  your  other  rea 
son?" 

With  a  gleam  of  triumph  in  his  eye  Macklin  let 
his  chair  slowly  down  on  all  four  legs.  "  Be 
cause,"  he  answered,  as  he  tapped  off  the  words 
with  a  bony  forefinger  on  Holly's  knee,  "I  know 
what  you've  got  in  your  winze  in  the  tunnel!  " 

Truth  or  untruth  as  this  startling  announce 
ment  might  prove  to  be,  neither  the  ranchman 
nor  Warder  nor  even  the  silent  Wiley  blinked  an 
eyelid.  But  Biddle  quickly  saw  that  the  thing  was 
impossible. 

"  You  couldn't  know,"  he  stated.  "  WeVe  got 
a  watchman  there." 

The  Atlas  man  laughed  out  with  unholy  glee 
and  slapped  his  leg. 

"Thanks,  young  feller;  thanks,"  he  said. 
"  Forty  thousand  is  my  price.  Take  it  or  leave 
it,  just  as  y'u  please." 

Before  Warder  pere  could  begin  a  fitting  re 
joinder  a  rather  rueful  acceptance  of  conditions 
seemed  to  spread  itself  over  Holly's  face. 

"  Of  course,  you  would  have  a  right  to  your 
ideas,"  Warder  heard  his  partner  saying,  "  even 
if  we  told  you  that  you  didn't  know  what  we've 
got,  but  before  we  go  any  further  we'll  ask  you  to 


222   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

show  us  that  the  claim  is  yours  to  sell.  Let's  see," 
said  the  ranchman,  while  the  old  man  nodded  in 
cheerful  appreciation,  "  didn't  you  buy  this  claim 
from  a  man  named  Drew?  " 

"  That's  right,"  came  the  reply.  "  Danny 
Drew — just  afore  he  went  tu  Idyho." 

"  But  Drew  didn't  get  to  Idaho,"  was  the  objec 
tion. 

"  Right.  I  know  that,"  old  Joey  answered 
alertly.  "  Some  feller  shot  him." 

4  Y-e-e-s.  I  guess  we're  all  pretty  sure  of  that 
by  now,"  Holly  agreed.  "  But  did  you  happen 
to  know  that  Drew  was  offered  a  large  sum  for 
the  claim  about  the  time  that  you  bought  it  from 
him?" 

The  question  sounded  rather  queer  to  Warder. 
Something  in  the  ranchman's  face,  though  perhaps 
it  was  its  utter  lack  of  expression,  told  him  that 
another  element  had  been  drawn  into  the  game. 
Who  was  this  man  u  Drew  " — and  why  had  he 
been  shot?  What  was  Holly  trying  to  do  to  Mack- 
lin?  What  had  Macklin  to  do  with  Drew? 
The  Philadelphian's  mouth  took  on  its  slit-like 
look. 

The  old  man  cleared  his  throat  before  replying. 
Sitting  still  in  his  chair,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   223 

Holly,  he  made  answer  without  a  trace  of  emo 
tion. 

"  Yes,"  he  said  evenly.  "  I've  heard  some  say 
he  was  made  an  offer  about  that  time." 

"  That's  right,"  continued  the  inquisitor,  "  and 
since  you're  aware  of  that,  you  must  also  know 
that  this  offer  was  made  before  you  bought  the 
claim." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  old  man  again,  with  the  same 
curious  calmness.  "  I  know  that." 

"  Hmmmm,"  said  Holly  thoughtfully.  He 
paused  long  enough  to  let  the  halt  gather  weight, 
and  then  suddenly  put  out  a  hand  and  gripped  the 
other's  knee.  "And  do  you  know,  too,  that  Drew 
refused  that  offer?  " 

Like  a  flash,  both  Warder  and  Wiley  riveted 
their  eyes  on  Macklin's  face.  The  trap  which  the 
silent  superintendent  had  been  grimly  waiting  for 
and  which  the  Philadelphian  now  almost  under 
stood  had  been  deftly  set.  Would  he  walk  into  it? 

"  Yes,  and  I  know  that,  too,  Mister  Good- 
player  !"  the  old  man  retorted,  with  the  rising 
snarl  of  a  cornered  animal.  "  Oh,  I've  been  wait 
ing  for  y'u  tu  spring  that,  Dick  Holly,  but  it  won't 
go!  Don't  think  I  ain't  wise  tu  what  they're  sayin' 
about  my  shootin'  Danny  Drew,  but  you'll  never 


224  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

prove  it  that  way,  or  anything  about  that  claim, 
nuther,  for  the  mighty  good  reason  that  I  wrote 
that  there  refusin'  letter  all  by  myself!  Yes,  I 
did,"  he  went  on,  leaping  from  his  chair  and  shak 
ing  his  fist  in  the  ranchman's  face.  "  That  letter 
came  into  Moab  post  office  for  Danny  Drew  and 
I  took  it  and  opened  it.  And  when  I  saw  what 
he'd  been  offered  I  sat  me  down  and  I  refused  it 
for  him,  and  then  I  went  out  after  Drew,  and 
I  bought  that  claim  for  myself!" 

Holly  felt  his  partner's  eye  on  him  as  he  slowly 
took  a  cigar  from  his  pocket  and  clipped  the  end. 
He  knew  Warder  thought  he  had  failed.  And  he 
was  inclined  to  think  so,  himself,  for  he  had 
played  the  only  cards  that  he  was  allowing  him 
self  to-day,  and  old  Joey  had  trumped  them. 
Jake's  evidence  had  proved  worthless,  just  as  he 
had  expected.  That  which  the  old  man  had  said 
he  had  done  with  the  letter  was  probably  true. 
The  attempt  to  trap  the  beast  and  scare  it  into 
submission  had  proved  futile.  The  trail  was  too 
old. 

But  there  was  a  last  entanglement  remaining.  It 
was  the  same  point  that  the  circus  woman  had 
made  two  days  before  and  although  he  had  no 
hopes  of  bringing  anything  to  light,  his  sense  of 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   225 

fairness  to  Warder  demanded  that  he  make  the 
attempt.  And  so  he  only  laughed  and  puffed  out 
smoke  and  put  a  repressing  hand  on  the  old  man's 
arm. 

"I  wish  you  wouldn't  get  so  excited,"  he  said. 
"  We  can't  do  any  business  if  you  act  like  a  jack- 
rabbit  with  the  St.  Vitus.  All  we  want  to  know 
is  if  you  bought  and  paid  for  that  claim.  Didn't 
Buckner  grub-stake  you  on  that  trip?  " 

There  were  sounds  in  the  office  outside  where 
Patterson  was  acting  as  watch-dog,  but  in  the 
confusion  and  scraping  of  chairs  none  of  the  five 
heard  the  outer  door  open  or  the  young  engineer's 
quick  step  as  he  sprang  up. 

Again  the  Atlas  man  cleared  his  throat  with 
irritating  calmness  and  fixed  a  malevolent  eye  on 
the  ranchman. 

"  Y'u  asks  me  if  a  man  by  the  name  of  Buckner 
has  interests  in  this  yere  deal.  I  tells  y'u  that  I 
buys  and  pays  for  that  there  claim  with  my  own 
money.  I  pays  the  sum  of  two  hundred  dollars 
for  that  proputty " 

The  click  of  a  lock  broke  into  the  sentence. 
Looking  over  Macklin's  shoulder  they  saw  Patter 
son  with  a  question  on  his  lips.  But  the  engineer 
was  not  the  only  one  in  the  outer  office,  for  some- 


226  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

one  presently  put  a  gauntleted  hand  against  the 
door  and  opened  it  wide. 

It  was  Clarice. 

With  a  comprehensive  glance  which  took  in  the 
occupants  of  the  room  and  the  situation  at  first 
sight,  the  woman  of  the  circus  came  swiftly  in 
and  held  out  the  proof  of  Macklin's  poverty  on 
that  February  day  three  years  before.  There  was 
no  word  of  explanation,  or  even  allusion  to  the 
night's  ride  that  they  immediately  knew  she  must 
have  taken — nothing  which  thrust  the  girl  herself 
into  the  foreground  as  the  heroine  of  a  rather  re 
markable  venture.  It  was  merely  the  direct  action 
of  one  going  about  a  necessary  piece  of  business  in 
the  necessary  way. 

"  I  know  you  want  this,  Mr.  Holly,"  she  said 
simply,  and  gave  him  the  leaf  torn  from  Buckner's 
day-book.  u  Please  look  at  it  at  once." 

The  ranchman  started  to  his  feet  with  an  audible 
gasp.  He  knew  instantly  what  had  brought  the 
girl  forty  miles  across  the  desert  to  Bullionfield 
at  just  that  time,  and  he  also  knew  that  he  would 
have  given  anything  he  possessed  for  power  to 
turn  her  arrival  in  that  particular  room  into  a 
fugitive  nightmare.  His  face  fell  and  he  grew 
white.  Although  his  hand  grasped  the  piece  of 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   227 

paper  instinctively,  it  was  more  because  he  hated 
the  sight  of  it  than  because  he  wanted  its  evidence. 
He  stood  still  for  a  short  moment,  his  hand  uncon 
sciously  gripping  hers,  his  eyes  full  of  horror 
over  the  denouement.  That  grisly  jester,  Fate,  had 
found  a  hand  at  last  to  set  the  noose. 

Out  of  all  those  in  the  room  only  Macklin 
still  kept  his  seat,  nervously  combing  his  beard  with 
his  crooked  talons  and  grinning  yellowly,  while  his 
malevolent  eyes  flickered  suspiciously  from  one  to 
the  other.  Perhaps  it  was  vouchsafed  him  in 
that  short  moment  to  fathom  the  meaning  of  the 
woman's  sudden  entrance.  Perhaps  some  vagrant 
memory  of  an  account  jotted  down  in  a  day-book 
with  just  such  pages  came  to  his  aid  with  its  mes 
sage  of  warning,  for  while  the  others  exclaimed  and 
wondered  the  old  man's  feet  unhooked  themselves 
from  his  chair-rungs  and  he  made  ready  for  flight. 

"  Oh — would  you?"  Holly  snarled,  and  caught 
and  whirled  him,  helpless,  into  a  corner.  "We're 
not  through  with  you  yet,  Mister  Man.  We've 
got  some  other  business  to  transact."  His  hand 
dove  swiftly  into  the  other's  pocket  and  wrested  a 
revolver  from  the  fingers  which  had  curled  round 
it.  "  Well,  lie  down  then,  if  you  can't  stand  up." 

"  Macklin,"  said  Holly,  and  he  held  the  piece 


228  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

of  paper  torn  from  the  day-book  where  the  other 
could  see  it,  "  you  didn't  leave  much  behind  you 
in  the  way  of  evidence  when  you  shot  Danny 
Drew,  but  you  left  this,  and  it  can  put  the  rope 
around  your  neck." 

Warder  wondered  why  Holly  hadn't  said 
"  will,"  instead  of  "  can."  Wiley  noticed  it,  too, 
but  Wiley  was  moving  towards  the  door.  Wiley 
wanted  the  Atlas  and  wanted  it  cheap.  Jumping 
claims  meant  action,  pure  and  simple.  But  Holly 
gestured  to  him  to  stay. 

"  We're  going  to  buy  the  Atlas,  just  as  I  said 
we  would,  Macklin — but  we're  going  to  change 
our  terms  a  little.  We'll  give  you  in  money — 
ONE  DOLLAR !  For  your  '  good  and  valuable 
considerations  '—YOUR  LIFE." 

Warder's  eyes  shot  open  and  he  bit  his  lip,  per 
plexed.  If  Holly  had  known  about  this  murder 
business  all  along,  why  hadn't  he  swung  the  club 
long  ago?  Sixty  seconds  before  this  partner  of  his 
had  been  on  the  point  of  giving  the  man  his 
price ! 

"  Don't  go  tu  hang  a  feller,  Dick,"  whined 
the  man  on  the  floor,  and  clawed  at  Holly's  boots. 
"  I  never  done  harm  tu  y'u." 

Holly  shook  his  feet  free.    Catching  the  old  man 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   229 

savagely  by  the  beard,  he  tilted  the  head  back  till 
the  other's  blotched  face  was  squarely  under  his 
blazing  eyes. 

"TAKE  ANOTHER  LOOK!"  he  shouted, 
with  suddenly  flaring  rage.  "  Didn't  you  ever 
harm  me?  Who  was  it  stole  a  poor  widow  wom 
an's  horses  and  outfit  thirty  years  ago  and  left  her 
stranded  on  the  desert?  Who  was  it  took  her 
savings  and  left  her  without  a  red  cent  to  go  on  ? 
Who  was  it  turned  that  poor  woman  into  a  slave 
for  the  rest  of  her  life — that  made  her  life  a  hell 
when  it  ought  to  have  been  a  heaven?  Do  you 
remember  Hot  Creek,  Macklin?  Do  you  remem 
ber  the  boy  you  left  behind  that  day?  Take  an 
other  look — just  as  I'll  take  a  look,"  and  he  jerked 
down  the  other's  sleeve,  "  take  another  look  at 
yourself,  you  snake, — and  then  say  you  never  did 
harm  to  me  or  mine ! " 

Jerking  the  man  to  his  feet  Holly  pitched  him 
forward  into  a  chair  and  snapped  a  silver  dollar 
down  beside  him  on  the  table.  "  SIGN  HERE  I  " 
he  shouted  in  the  other's  ear,  as  with  one  heavy 
hand  holding  him  down  he  took  a  paper  from 
Wiley  and  slapped  it  open  in  front  of  him.  "  For 
the  sum  of  one  dollar  now  in  hand  paid  and  other 
good  and  valuable  considerations."  There's  a  lot 


230  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

of  doubt  about  how  good  your  life  is,  but 
we'll  try  to  make  it  valuable  to  you — and  no  mis 
take  !  " 

With  a  shaking  hand  the  old  man  traced  a 
signature  across  the  page.  The  Atlas  was  passing 
— passing  with  every  wobbling  letter — passing 
from  Danny  Drew  to  Macklin  to  Holly — a  matter 
of  mystery  in  years  gone  by,  and  now  that  one 
mystery  had  been  solved  another  had  sprung  up  to 
take  its  place.  With  a  sickness  round  her  heart 
the  woman  of  the  circus  recognized  the  presence 
of  some  feeling  far  more  bitter  than  her  limited 
knowledge  would  account  for.  It  was  as  if  some 
thing  had  suddenly  pierced  a  carefully  hidden  sack 
of  gall-like  acridness  and  let  the  sour  liquor  flow 
out  and  embitter  Holly's  eyes  and  face.  She  stole 
a  second  look  at  the  ranchman's  features  and  saw 
there  the  stoniness  of  an  undeniable  vengeance, 
and  a  consuming  hate  which  she  had  not  thought 
would  ever  show  in  such  a  place. 

"  STAND  UP!  "  the  ranchman  shouted  in  the 
ear  of  the  almost  palsied  man.  "  YOUR  JOB 
HAS  ONLY  JUST  BEGUN !  You  thought  the 
desert  was  good  enough  for  some — we'll  see  if 
it  looks  good  to  you  now!  " 

The  group  parted  as  he  pulled  the  other  to  his 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   231 

feet,  but  Holly  seemed  hardly  to  know  they  were 
there.  Passing  through  the  outer  office  with  the 
man  in  his  clutch,  he  picked  up  a  Winchester  as  if 
it  were  a  jack-straw  and  let  it  slide  into  the  hollow 
of  his  arm.  A  pair  of  field  glasses  were  there, 
also,  and  he  dropped  them  in  his  pocket.  Then, 
half  carrying,  half  pushing  the  man  with  him,  he 
passed  out  of  the  house  and  down  the  steps  towards 
a  gulch  which  ran  down  at  one  side  to  the  yellow 
plain. 

They  followed  him,  fascinated.  Although  their 
minds  grasped  the  reason  for  this  final  reckoning 
no  better  than  they  fathomed  its  results,  some 
thing  drew  them  on,  and  as  they  followed,  they 
went  for  the  most  part  silently,  each  one  alone 
among  his  thoughts. 

Wiley  followed  for  a  time  and  then  stopped 
and  turned  back. 

"  It's  his  deal,"  he  said,  with  a  shake  of  his 
head,  to  Clarice,  coming  slowly  along  behind. 
"  He  has  got  the  rights,  here,  from  what  he  said. 
Let  him  play  it  out  the  way  he's  planned." 

But  the  circus  woman,  with  a  colorless  face, 
passed  him  without  recognition. 

:<  What  is  he  going  to  do  with  him,  papa?" 
Biddle  faltered  to  his  father,  as  together  they 


232  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

stumbled  down  the  rocky  bed  of  the  gully.  "  He 
isn't  going  to  kill  him,  is  he?" 

"  I  don't  know,  boy,"  the  father  answered,  with 
a  troubled  face.  "  Not  that,  I  hope — but  it  must 
be  something  pretty  bad." 

The  gulch  was  quiet  now.  Turning  and  twist 
ing  in  its  downward  course,  its  bed  was  consider 
ably  below  the  mine-house  of  the  Yellow  Dog, 
and  farther  still  out  of  sight  of  the  town.  To 
those  who  followed  down  there  where  the  wind 
ceased  whirring  in  their  ears  and  the  sounds  of 
the  camp  passed,  unheard,  overhead,  it  seemed  as 
if  they  were  miles  away  from  any  living  thing. 
Bone-dry  and  yellow-floored — with  its  tortuous 
channel  choked  with  greasily  shining  boulders,  the 
path  to  the  desert  waiting  below  was  like  a  suf 
focating  alley-way  to  a  furnace,  towards  which 
two  figures  always  bore  on,  their  shortened  shad 
ows  inky  black  against  the  sand. 

The  gully  turned  for  the  last  time  and  opened 
out  into  the  plain.  They  saw  it  stretching  far 
away  to  the  south,  father  and  son  and  silent,  white- 
faced  woman,  and  it  took  on  a  new  significance. 
There  was  little  of  it  that  escaped  them  now, 
whether  it  was  the  heat-waves  eddying  up,  or  the 
rock  hillocks,  or  the  infinite  miles  themselves. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   233 

They  saw  what  was  to  happen,  and  their  staring 
eyes  reflected  the  trials  that  were  to  come.  The 
two  men  hesitated  at  this  point  and  decided  to  go 
no  further.  But  the  woman  passed  on  by  with 
a  set  face,  and  after  a  time  climbed  a  side-hill 
and  found  a  boulder,  to  sit  there  silent  and  alone. 

The  two  figures  came  to  a  halt.  As  they  did 
so  a  vagrant  dust-whirl,  spinning  across  the  yellow 
silt  of  the  arroyo's  mouth,  swooped  down  and  en 
veloped  them  in  its  blinding  spiral.  Yet,  when 
it  had  passed,  they  were  found  in  the  same  posi 
tions  as  before,  the  bearded  man  shrinking  back 
from  a  look  at  the  desert  for  a  last,  hopeless 
searching  of  the  other's  eyes. 

The  man  with  the  rifle  seemed  to  speak  for  the 
last  time.  Then  he  stepped  back  and  waited. 

The  other  lifted  his  arm  half-way  in  a  gesture 
of  despair,  then  let  it  drop.  What  was  the  use? 
He  knelt  down  and  unfastened  his  shoes.  This 
done,  he  rose,  and,  as  if  the  moment  had  given 
him  thinking  space,  opened  his  yellow-fanged 
mouth  and  let  go  a  flood  of  curses.  But  the  tall 
man,  with  the  same  merciless  directness,  only 
kicked  the  shoes  away — and  pointed. 

And  so,  without  noise  and  without  expense — 
without  vociferous  trial  by  jury  or  the  putting  on 


234  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

of  black  caps — the  man  who  had  shot  another  man 
dead  by  his  own  camp-fire  went  down  into  the 
grinning  desert  at  high  noon  to  pay  his  score. 

An  hour  passed.  At  the  end  of  that  time  the 
watchers  were  still  on  the  hillside;  the  two  East 
erners  in  the  rear,  murmuring  together  and  point 
ing;  a  hundred  yards  ahead,  the  silent,  motion 
less  woman.  Beyond  them  all,  on  the  point  of  the 
hill,  sat  a  man  with  his  eyes  fixed  unswervingly 
on  the  desert,  the  long  barrel  of  his  rifle  across  his 
knees. 

The  figure  was  quite  small  now.  Plodding 
steadily  away  to  the  south,  it  often  lost  itself  for 
several  minutes  at  a  time  among  the  swales  and 
gullies  but  always  came  to  sight  again,  crawling  up 
the  opposite  bank  with  the  torpid  movement  of 
some  heat-dazed  insect.  And  always  it  grew  more 
vague  and  more  difficult  to  pick  up  again,  once  it 
had  vanished,  until  at  last  it  turned  into  a  mere 
dot  in  a  hazed  immensity  of  gray. 

Another  hour  passed  and  there  were  only  two 
on  the  hillside,  sitting  on  in  the  heat  while  the 
silence  rang  in  their  ears  and  lizards  flickered  up 
to  the  tops  of  the  rocks  to  stare  at  them  alertly 
with  liquescent  eyes. 

After  a  time,  the  man  on  the  point  of  the  hill 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   235 

leaned  his  rifle  against  a  boulder  and  raised  his 
glasses.  What  he  saw  apparently  satisfied  him,  for 
he  put  the  glasses  back  in  his  pocket  and  picked  up 
his  rifle  again. 

She  rose  to  meet  him  as  he  came  along  the  hill 
side,  picking  his  way  carefully  among  the  brush 
and  stones.  He  had  not  yet  noticed  her,  and,  curi 
ously  enough,  he  did  not  look  very  grim.  The 
stoniness  in  his  face  had  passed  away — the  eyes 
were  warm  and  kind  again — his  air  was  that  of 
a  man  suddenly  relieved  of  an  agonizing  weight, 
or,  better  still,  it  was  that  of  one  who  had  joy 
ously  washed  himself  free  of  contamination.  He 
stooped  to  pluck  idly  at  some  bright  desert  flower 
as  he  came  along,  and  was  even  heard  to  hum  a 
little  tune.  But  when  he  saw  her  waiting  for  him 
beside  the  rock  of  her  vigil  his  face  grew  grave 
again.  He  wondered  if  she  would  ever  know 
how  very  close  a  thing  it  had  been. 

"  I  didn't  know  it  would  be  like  that,"  the  girl 
said  simply.  "  I  never  thought  of  there  being 
any  ending."  Her  breath  began  to  come  quickly. 
Her  eyes,  worn  out  with  watching,  grew  moist  with 
tears.  She  looked  up  at  him  piteously,  unconscious 
that  her  hands  were  clutched  together  at  her  breast. 
Self-accusation  trembled  on  her  lips. 


236  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

"  It  seemed  enough  just  to  prove  it.  I  never 
stopped  to  think  how  it  must  end."  She  gave  a 
single,  convulsive  sob  and  wavered  towards  him. 
"  And  all  last  night,  while  I  was  riding,  I  was  so 
happy — happy!  " 

"  Don't,  partner,"  he  said,  in  anguish,  and  she 
felt  his  arm  around  her  for  one  blessed  moment — 
strengthening  her,  lifting  her  up,  and  pouring  a 
vitalizing  current  into  her  heart.  "  Please  don't 
say  those  things.  You're  not  to  blame — or  else 
he's  right  and  we — all  of  us — are  wrong." 

"  I  know,"  she  said  honestly,  her  brimming 
eyes  held  up  to  his  as  they  stood  together.  "  And 
yet  it  was  /  who  did  it  all." 

"  No,"  he  smiled,  so  that  it  was  a  pleasure  to  be 
so  gently  contradicted.  "  I  guess  we  can  leave  a 
little  of  it  to  him.  And  yet,  what  have  we  done 
to-day — you  and  I,  and  the  fear  of  this  gun? 
We've  only  taken  this  man  that  ought  to  be  kick 
ing  for  his  life  up  there  against  the  sky " 

"  But  the  torture! "  she  cried.  "  It  isn't 
right!  " 

"Torture?"  he  answered.  "  But  he  wants 
that.  He's  good  and  willing  to  take  it.  He  gave 
up  his  life  to-day — with  that  piece  of  paper.  Now 
he's  trying  to  get  it  back.  He's  ready  to  pay !  " 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   237 

"  Do  you  mean  he  won't  die?"  she  asked 
swiftly. 

There  was  a  strange  mixture  of  feelings  in  the 
ranchman's  breast  as  he  made  answer.  Yet  he  was 
honest  as  always. 

"  He  has  a  chance,"  he  said. 


CHAPTER  XI 

"  I  TELL  you  what,  Charlotte.  I've  done  some 
fairly  smart  things  in  my  life,  but  I  was  just  a 
little  bit  the  smartest  when  I  got  hold  of  this  man 
Holly.'' 

Warder  pere,  luxuriating  in  his  balbriggans  and 
deboutonne  in  mood  as  well,  was  cooling  a  sun 
burned  face  in  the  wash-basin  while,  between  splut 
ters,  he  delivered  himself  of  some  opinions  to  his 
wife. 

"  It's  just  as  they  say  out  here — '  Gold  is  where 
you  find  it.'  You  never  can  tell — you  never  can 
tell!  Why,  when  I  went  down  that  shaft  and 
looked  at  the  ore  I  saw  right  away  what  it  is  that 
drives  these  fellows  crazy.  Just  think,  Charlotte ! 
There  we  were,  walking  along  in  a  tunnel  to  all 
appearances  just  like  a  ditch  for  a  gas-main  back  in 
Jenkintown,  when  Holly  put  his  hand  out  and 
said,  '  There  she  is !  '  And  there  it  was !  FIVE 
HUNDRED  DOLLARS  A  TON !  Just  strike  it 
once — once  in  a  lifetime,  Charlotte,  and  your  for 
tune's  made. 

"  And,  by  George ! — the  wealth  in  that  property 
238 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   239 

is  something  fairly  amazing.  Holly  was  as  tickled 
as  a  ten-year-old  boy.  Just  sat  back  and  laughed 
and  laughed,  and  said,  '  Well,  are  you  satisfied, 
Mr.  Warder?'  And  I  said,  4  Holly,  you  piebald 
old  son-of-a-gun '  ' 

"  Osgood !    Your  language!  " 

"  I  know— I  know,  darling.  It's  the  high  alti 
tude " 

"  But  I  always  thought  it  took  some  special  kind 
of  a  person  to  know  about  gold,"  his  wife  re 
marked,  doubtfully  surveying  her  hero's  legs.  "  I 
didn't  know  that  an  ordinary  man  like  you  could 
go  right  out  and  get  it.  Isn't  it  awfully  hard  to  see 
in  the  ground?  " 

"  Not  at  all — not  at  all,"  corrected  the  miner- 
husband.  "  Often  you  can  see  it  in  little  yellow 
specks  sticking  right  out.  Why — a  rock  no  bigger 
than  that  sofa  you're  sitting  on  will  sometimes  be 
worth  a  thousand  dollars  if  it  only  has  those  little 
flakes  in  it !  It's  really  no  trick  at  all.  It's  what 
I've  claimed  all  along — you  simply  find  it — or  you 
don't.  Anybody  can  have  a  mine — a  boy,  or  a 
woman — anybody  at  all.  Oh,  you  never  can  tell — 
you  never  can  tell." 

"  I  wonder  if  Imogene " 


24o   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

"What  say?" 

"  Nothing,  my  dear — nothing  at  all,"  his  wife 
murmured.  "  I  was  only  wondering  something." 

But,  however  largely  the  question  of  mines 
might  have  bulked  in  the  lady's  thoughts  at  just 
that  moment,  there  was  one  particular  affair  which 
Mrs.  Warder  at  no  time  lost  sight  of,  and  the 
pressure  which  lay  behind  her  immediate  hints  to 
Amy  Radnor  was  not  weakened  by  what  she  had 
heard  from  her  husband.  As  a  result,  the  girl  be 
gan  to  feel  very  forlorn.  Insults  were  an  ancient 
experience  for  the  last  of  the  Radnor  family,  but 
what  had  once  been  borne  as  a  necessary  affliction 
became  a  torment  under  freer  surroundings.  All 
too  late,  she  yearned  to  escape  from  bondage. 
Compared  to  the  enterprising  Belvawney,  whose 
horizons  were  apparently  limited  only  by  the  mail 
order  service,  her  own  life  seemed  bounded  by  the 
conventional  shapes  of  a  boxwood  hedge.  Yet 
Amy  knew  instinctively  that  her  yearnings  would 
be  in  vain.  Your  fine-furred  house-cat  must  own 
something  sharper  than  the  mere  stirrings  of  in 
dependence  if  it  contemplates  the  perilous  aerials 
of  the  backyard  fence. 

But  Amy's  mind,  to-day,  was  more  particularly 
harassed  by  another  matter,  and  she  set  out  on 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   241 

a  solitary  walk  through  the  orchard,  which  natu 
rally  brought  about  a  meeting  with  the  one  person 
she  devoutly  hoped  to  avoid. 

She  blushed  as  the  ranchman  drew  near,  and 
wondered  how  she  looked  to  him,  bareheaded,  dis 
trait,  and  silent.  With  a  woman's  first  fear,  she 
hoped  she  would  not  be  laughed  at.  But  the 
ranchman  only  took  off  his  hat  and  leaned  casually 
against  the  fence  nearby.  It  seemed  as  if  he  un 
derstood  her  thoughts  and  had  dropped  into  silent 
communion  with  her.  Her  flutterings  ceased.  She 
felt  at  ease  again. 

"  Well,  Miss  Amy,"  he  said  with  a  pleasantly 
teasing  note  in  his  voice.  "  What's  his  name?  " 

Amy's  second  blush  was  a  complete  success, 
until  a  hand  dropped  down  and  covered  her 
own.  "  It's  all  right,  Miss  Amy,"  she  heard  him 
say.  "  Nobody  told  me.  I  just  naturally  guessed 
it.  I  won't  tell." 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  ever  imagined  it,"  Amy 
stammered,  through  her  subsiding  pinkness.  "  No 
body  at  home  knows  it;  not  even  Aunt  Charlotte 
— just  David  and  myself.  But,  oh!  Mr.  Holly!  " 
she  broke  out  with  a  rush  of  confidence,  "  I  don't 
know  what  we  are  going  to  do.  We've  been  en 
gaged  for  so  long — and  he  works  and  works  and 


242   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

can't  get  ahead.  It  seems,  sometimes,  as  if  it 
would  never  happen." 

"  Tell  me  about  it,"  he  said. 

Amy  drew  a  long  breath. 

"  He's  a  clerk  in  the  Third  Street  Bank/'  she 
said.  "  For  a  long  time  he  was  a  *  runner.'  Then 
they  put  him  in  the  *  loan  department '  for  what 
seemed  a  geological  period.  I  was  afraid  he'd 
petrify  there.  But  he  got  out  of  that  somehow, 
and  now  he's  First  Assistant  in  the  Receiving 
Teller's  cage.  But  the  stuffy  bank  people  won't 
do  anything  for  him — and  old  Bailey,  the  Teller, 
simply  won't  die — and  there  we  are — there  every 
thing  is.  We're  just  tied  hand  and  foot.  And 
David's  growing  so  white,  and  I'm  growing  so 
sallow " 

"Does  your  aunt  know?"  he  interrupted 
quickly. 

"  No,  indeed,"  was  the  frightened  response. 
"  She  wants  me  to  marry  someone  with  lots  of 
money — she  doesn't  care  if  I  like  him  or  not.  I 
might  like  him,  of  course,"  and  Amy  launched  a 
daring  smile,  "  but  even  out  here  you  can't  love 
two  people  at  once, — unless  you're  a  Bishop. 

"  Of  course,  Uncle  Os'  is  awfully  good  to  me," 
she  went  on,  "  but  whenever  we  get  settled  down 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   243 

for  a  talk,  little  boys  come  with  code  messages,  or 
else  Long  Distance  calls  up  and  says  Pittsburg 
wants  to  talk  to  him,  and  so  we  never  get  around 
to  poor  David.  But  it  does  me  just  as  much  good 
to  talk  to  you,"  she  said  naively.  "  You  seem 
more  like  an  uncle  every  day.  That  won't  make 
you  feel  too  old,  will  it?  You're  not  really  an 
old  man." 

"  Oh,  no,"  he  said  swiftly.  "  No.  I'm  not  old, 
But  tell  me  more  about  this  man  back  there  in  a 
cage — who  can't  die." 

"  Oh,  you  can't  do  anything,"  Amy  said  hope 
lessly.  "  I've  given  him  mental  suggestion  for 
everything  from  breaking  his  neck  on  the  cellar 
stairs  to  being  destroyed  by  a  taxi-cab.  And,  just 
to  make  matters  worse,  David  saw  him  *  Fletcher- 
izing  '  his  lunch  last  week,  and  now  we  think  he'll 
live  twenty  years !  " 

Holly  pondered.  "  How  much  money  has  this 
David  boy  saved  up?  "  he  asked.  "  But  of  course 
you  wouldn't  know " 

"  Oh,  ho  !  Don't  I  ?  "  exclaimed  Amy.  "  We 
have  exactly  four  hundred  and  seventy-two  dollars 
and  nine  cents.  We're  waiting  for  a  thousand." 

Holly  straightened  up  and  struck  the  fence  a 
sharp  blow  with  his  fist.  "  Tell  him  to  buy  or 


244  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

option  every  single  Bullionfield  share  he  can  get  his 
hands  on,"  he  said.  "  Amarinth  and  Daisy  Ex 
tension  and  Red  Rock — they'll  all  be  booming  big 
to-morrow.  Tell  him  to  draw  every  cent  of  his 
money — even  that  nine  cents  will  buy  a  share  of 
*  Red  Rock ' — just  tell  him  to  take  a  big  breath 
and  let-her-go!  But  you'll  have  to  hurry,"  he 
warned.  u  Wire  him  right  away.  Send  it  in  code 
and  get  Miss  Belvawney  to  help  you.  Don't  let 
Biddle  know,  or  he'll  be  too  quick — perhaps  he's 
thought  of  it  already." 

"  I'll  hurry,"  gasped  the  girl.     "  I'll  go  right 


now." 


"  And  see  here !  "  he  exclaimed  vigorously,  as  he 
strode  after  her.  "  Make  a  good  job  of  it.  Tell 
him  to  get  you  all  he  can  of  everything  at  any 
price  and  send  me  his  figures.  If  you  need  any 
more  money,  come  to  me!  I'll  stand  by  you  right 
straight  through !  " 

"  I  don't  like  to  borrow,"  the  girl  fluttered  as 
she  stumbled  along  through  the  orchard.  "  But,  oh ! 
if  it  only  does  come  true!  /  know  what  I'll  do. 
I'll  give  you  my  note !  " 

"  But  I'll  want  interest,"  he  smiled.  "  I'm  a 
terrible  miser." 

They   reached   the   edge   of   the   orchard   and 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  245 

paused.  The  ranch-house  was  not  far  distant — 
to  all  appearances  no  one  was  in  sight.  Amy 
turned  to  him  with  a  rush  of  gratitude,  her  face 
transfigured.  The  sallowness  had  been  reddened 
away  and  hope  had  lighted  its  fires  behind  her 
eyes. 

"  How  can  I  ever  thank  you !  "  she  exclaimed, 
and  dropped  her  cheek  for  an  instant  against  his 
coat.  "  If  you  weren't  so  awfully  tall,  partner, 
I'd  pay  you  some  of  that  '  interest '  now,"  and 
with  another  vivid  blush,  Amy  picked  up  her  skirts 
and  fled. 

Mrs.  Warder,  on  the  ranch-house  porch, 
gasped,  rose  half  out  of  her  chair,  hesitated — 
then  sat  heavily  down.  When,  a  moment  before, 
she  had  been  idly  gazing  orchardwards,  she  had 
been  unwilling  to  believe  her  eyes.  But  for  the 
fleeting  vision  of  her  niece,  very  much  flushed  and 
properly  abashed,  the  very  speed  of  the  thing 
would  have  made  it  incredible.  Yet  the  fruits  of 
her  generalship  were  undeniably  in  hand.  To  seize 
the  psychological  moment — and  to  be  adroit — 
these  had  been  her  weapons.  But  even  Napoleon 
in  Italy  had  never  won  such  swift  success. 

"  It  must  be  the  high  altitude,  as  Osgood  says," 
she  murmured,  and  sat  back  and  folded  her  plump 


246  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

hands.    Matters  had  turned  out  happily,  after  all. 

Only  once  did  a  shadow  cross  her  face.  Al 
though  the  thought  that  came  to  her  was  not  pre 
cisely  dismaying,  yet  it  intruded  upon  her  tran 
quillity  with  insistent  interrogation.  WHAT 
WOULD  THE  STRONG  WOMAN  HAVE 
TO  SAY  ABOUT  IT? 

While  she  was  pondering  this  question  and  try 
ing  to  build  up  rebuttals  to  a  curious  sensation  of 
fear  she  suddenly  heard  a  loud  "  S-S-S-S-S-S-T !  " 
behind  her.  Turning  anxiously,  she  saw  Imo- 
gene's  head  protruding  from  the  doorway. 

The  Strong  Woman  held  up  a  warning  finger 
and  looked  cautiously  about. 

"  Are  you  all  ready  to  go  up  there?  "  she  whis 
pered  hoarsely.  u  Now's  our  time — nobody's  in 
sight.  Just  go  monkeying  around  as  if  you  were 
n't  going  anywhere  in  partickeler,  and  I'll  meet 
you  out  back  of  the  hay-stacker.  We'll  have  to  be 
quick,  or  the  men  will  see  us  going  up  the  trail." 

The  other  was  instantly  all  attention. 

"  I  won't  let  anybody  see  me,"  she  fluttered 
back,  and  gathered  herself  together.  u  But  won't 
we  need  some  sacks  to  put  the  gold  in?  " 

"  I've  got  all  that,"  was  the  response,  as  Imo- 
gene  drew  back  into  the  darkened  hallway. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   247 

"  Picks,  and  candles,  and  sample  bags — every 
thing  s  been  fixed  for  you"  said  Imogene. 

And  so  it  happened  that  Dick  Holly,  coming 
back  through  the  fields,  found  the  house  almost 
deserted  and  only  Drybone  and  Altamont  on  view, 
sitting  on  the  wood-pile.  The  little  man  was  evi 
dently  explaining  the  workings  of  his  flute,  for 
presently  the  foreman  raised  it  gingerly  to  his 
lips  and  blew  forth  a  startling,  staccato  toot. 

Holly  knew  well  enough  whom  he  sought.  The 
memory  of  two  days  ago  was  with  him  still,  and 
it  dragged  a  snarl  of  worries  in  its  train. 

Hardly  had  they  put  Bullionfield  and  the  puz 
zled  Sheriff  at  their  backs  than  Clarice  had  lapsed 
into  thoughtful  silence,  with  trouble  lying  behind 
her  eyes,  as  if  she  groped  among  old  memories 
for  a  leading  thread.  Swiftly  contrived  though 
his  revenge  on  Macklin  had  been,  he  feared  that 
some  fleeting  remembrance — an  inflection  or  a  ges 
ture,  had  set  a  train  of  thought  in  motion  that 
would  bring  nothing  but  disastrous  results. 

The  office-door  stood  open  and  he  wandered  ir 
resolutely  inside.  The  room  seemed  as  if  she  had 
just  left  it,  for  he  seemed  to  sense  her  in  the  pic 
tures  with  which  she  had  hidden  the  homely  walls 
— the  curtains  draped  back  to  let  the  sunlight  in — 


248   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

the  pretty  lamp-shades  she  had  fashioned  out  of 
paper.  Her  books,  he  saw,  were  put  carefully  away 
in  a  box  out  of  sight,  while  his  own  few  volumes 
stood  neatly  arranged  on  a  shelf.  Elsewhere  were 
other  records  of  her  unfailing  industry,  and  wher 
ever  his  eyes  strayed  they  saw  half-understood  evi 
dences  of  the  girl's  efforts  to  better  herself  and  her 
surroundings.  Flowers  were  there,  as  always — 
honeysuckle  and  wild  roses — and  some  bright 
desert  blossom  she  had  found  in  the  valley  that 
morning.  On  her  table  by  the  window,  one  of  her 
gauntlets  lay,  palm  upwards,  the  curves  of  her 
fingers  still  in  its  shape. 

He  looked  around  again,  and  bit  his  lip  in 
silent  chagrin.  It  seemed  such  a  strange,  unreach- 
able  world  for  such  as  he — this  fragment  of  a 
young  girl's  life — of  half-guessed  mysteries  and 
refinements  beside  whose  delicate  shadings  his  own 
traits  were  garish  and  crude.  He  grew  timid  as  her 
images  multiplied.  Unknowingly,  he  had  created 
an  atmosphere  so  redolent  of  femininity  that  it 
would  have  needed  only  a  jacket  thrown  carelessly 
across  a  chair  to  make  him  hastily  withdraw. 
While  he  stood  there,  pondering,  the  girl  entered 
the  room. 

"  I  thought  I  had  left  a  glove,"  she  murmured. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   249 

He  followed  her  eyes  and  saw  the  gauntlet 
clutched  firmly  in  his  hand.  He  stiffened,  and 
handed  it  to  her  with  a  wordless  apology.  He 
would  have  liked  to  smile,  but,  somehow,  was  un 
able. 

The  girl  lowered  her  eyes  and  fidgeted  with  a 
pencil  on  her  desk. 

"  You  have  something  for  me  to  do?  "  she  ven 
tured. 

"  No,"  he  said,  with  a  hollow  sound  echoing 
somewhere  in  the  vastness  of  his  head.  "  No. 
Nothing  that  I  can  think  of  now." 

He  looked  down  at  his  feet,  surprised  not  to 
find  them  cemented  to  the  floor — they  felt  that 
way.  He  found  he  was  staring  at  her  helplessly, 
wondering  what  made  her  eyes  so  full  and  sweet. 
He  wondered  why  her  hair  shone — and  why  it 
waved.  A  tinge  of  pink  was  creeping  up  in  her 
cheek  and  he  was  puzzled  for  a  reason.  He  saw 
her  pick  up  a  pen-knife  and  drop  it  with  a  clatter. 

"  Mr.  Holly,"  she  said,  with  a  quick  breath, 
"  there  doesn't  seem  to  be  much  for  me  to  do 
around  here  any  more." 

"Ma'am?"  he  said,  startled. 

"  I  said — there  wasn't  anything  for  me  to  do," 
she  repeated  bravely.  "  You've  put  us  all  on  half- 


250  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

pay,  out  of  the  goodness  of  your  heart,  but  I  can't 
see  at  all  that  I'm  earning  it — all  the  mining  busi 
ness  has  gone  over  to  the  camp  now,  you  know — 
I  haven't  done  any  of  it  here  for  a  week  or  more. 
Of  course,  I'd  like  awfully  to  do  anything  you  wish, 
but  frankly,  Mr.  Holly,"  and  she  raised  her  eyes 
with  a  perceptible  effort,  "  I  don't  see  how  you 
justify  my  employment." 

" Employment?"  he  said,  with  a  bewildered 
echo.  "Justify?  Why — why — why,  I  thought 
you  were  just  staying  here !  " 

"  But  the  money,"  she  said  with  some  difficulty. 
"  I  can't  take  it." 

"  Why — I'm  giving  you  that,"  he  explained 
wildly.  "  It  really  isn't  pay — don't  look  at  it  that 
way.  It's  just  to  help  you  out  because  I  got  you 
all  in  a  tight  place.  And  just  see  what  you  did  for 
us  at  Yellow  Dog!  " 

"  I  know  what  you  mean,"  she  said,  distressed. 
"  But  even  if  there  was  a  need  for  it  once,  don't 
you  think  you've  done  enough  for  us  now?  " 

What  was  she  about  to  say?  He  felt  a  presenti 
ment  that  something  was  going  to  hurt  him  pres 
ently.  The  girl  began  to  look  first  on  one  side  and 
then  on  the  other. 

"  I  don't  know  exactly  what  to  say,"  she  fal- 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   251 

tered.  "  You  make  it  hard  for  me.  You  ask  me 
here  as  your  guest — and  then  you  pay  your  guest. 
How  do  you  know  but  that  I'd  like  to  stay  here 
always  ?"  She  blushed  furiously  at  this,  but  kept 
on.  "  Don't  you  see  how  hard  that  will  make  it 
after  a  while?  When  you  get  tired  of  us  and  want 
us  to  go,  you  won't  just  be  saying  good-by — you'll 
be  *  dismissing  your  employees/  And  some  of 
them — the  Blondellis,  for  instance — might  not 
want  to  go,  and  then  you'd  be  hurting  their  feelings 
terribly.  But  I  ought  not  to  speak  for  any  but 
myself.  I  only  know  that  it's  all  been  like  a  beau 
tiful  dream  till  to-day.  I  see  now  that  we  were 
all  so  disheartened  and  hungry  and  forlorn  that  we 
just  took  everything  you  gave  us,  and  we've  lived 
along  ever  since  without  a  thought  for  the  future. 
Perhaps  it  didn't  seem  so  queer  until  the  others 
came — it  was  more  as  if  we  were  all  one  happy 
family,  with  a  fine,  big  brother  to  take  care  of  us. 
It's  been  the  very  biggest  help  to  me  I  ever,  ever 

had,  but  now — but  now  I'll  have  to  go " 

"  Don't!  "  he  said,  anguished,  for  he  saw  the 
worried  look  behind  it  all.  "  Please  don't,  Miss 
Clarice.  Give  me  a  minute  or  two !  Can't  I — 
can't  I  sign  'em  up  with  long-term  contracts  at  full 
pay  and  make  'em  stay?  " 


252   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

"  But  that  would  only  make  it  worse,"  she  said, 
with  a  faint  smile  over  this  incoherency.  "  Then 
you'd  be  paying  us  twice  as  much  for  doing  noth- 
ing." 

The  worried  look  clouded  her  eyes  again — it 
seemed  as  if  she  couldn't  keep  it  back.  In  spite 
of  her  self-control,  her  mind  had  been  whirling 
night  and  day  in  a  tireless  circle  around  that  pivotal 
scene  in  Bullionfield.  Unreasonable  though  it  was, 
her  eyes  were  always  following  a  black  dot  plod 
ding  wearily  across  a  yellow  plain.  As  often  as 
her  thoughts  flashed  back  to  the  sudden  drama 
in  the  office  at  the  mine  it  was  with  an  insistent 
searching  for  something  connected  with  the  man 
Macklin  which  had  passed  through  her  mind,  half 
noticed,  at  the  time,  but  which  now  was  develop 
ing  into  a  frightful  suspicion.  And  yet,  try  as  she 
might,  she  could  not  remember  what  she  had  seen 
or  heard. 

She  stole  a  look  at  his  face.  His  eyes  were  full 
of  misery. 

"  Am  I  a  fool?  "  he  was  asking  in  a  curiously 
broken  voice.  "  Why — /  thought  we  were  happy 
here !  What  is  it  that  I  can  do  ?  Isn't  there  some 
way " 

"  No,"  she  said  sadly.     "  Don't  you  see  that 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   253 

it's  all  over — for  me,  at  least?  I  came  as  a  guest — 
and  I've  tried  to  help — and  now  I'll  go  as  a  guest." 
The  girl's  voice  faded  away.  She  looked  to  one 
side  again.  Her  throat  worked  and  she  picked 
at  her  dress. 

"But,  Clarice!"  the  man  cried  frantically,  "I 
DON'T  WANT  YOU  TO  GO !  You  mustn't 
go!  You  can't!  You  just  got  to  stay  here  and 
help  me  out.  Why — I  can't  have  you  running  off 
like  this  into  the  world  where  I  can't  find  you !  " 
His  arms  twitched  at  his  sides.  Almost — almost 
they  were  going  out  to  her. 

"  You  want  me  to  stay?  "  she  asked  tremulously. 

"  Yes!  Yes!"  he  cried,  with  the  inspiration  of 
despair.  "  I've  got  the  biggest  kind  of  a  scheme 
for  you  to  work  on.  It's — it's  about  this  ranch — 
something  I've  been  thinking  of,  oh!  for  ever  so 
long — something  that  you're  just  fitted  for.  Why," 
he  said,  with  wild  gestures,  "  you  haven't  any  idea 
at  all  what  I'm  going  to  do  here  when  I  really 
get  going — I  haven't  got  it  all  worked  out,  my 
self,  yet.  You  see — it's  been  my  plan  to  take  this 
nice,  big,  healthy  ranch  here "  He  was  play 
ing  for  time  now,  and  racking  his  brains.  "  Where 
we  have  sunlight — and  water — and — and  every 
thing  and " 


254  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

— She  was  looking  at  him  very  directly — 

"  And  turn  it  into  a — a  HOME !  A  home  for 
boys — little  boys.  Yes,  that's  it.  Little  boys  that 
have  got  consumption.  There  it  is !  Now  you've 
got  it!" 

Her  eyes  opened.  She  took  a  quick  breath. 
He  saw  his  chance  and  rushed  on. 

"  That's  what  I  want  you  for.  Take  this 
1  Home  '  and  run  it !  Be  boss.  Make  the  kids  get 
out  and  chase  up  and  down  the  hills!  Order 
the  fool  doctors  around  and  show  'em  who's  who, 
by  Jinks!  See  that  they  all  get  fed."  He  came 
up  for  air,  searched  her  face  hopefully,  then 
plunged  in  again.  u  Wouldn't  you  like  to  do 
that?  Won't  that  be  work  enough  for  you? 
You'd  have  your  hands  full.  Come  on,  Miss 
Clarice.  Be  a  sport.  Say  you'll  stay.  I'll  put 
Imogene  and  everyone  to  work  on  it — nobody  will 
have  to  go.  But  no  charity  this  time."  (He  was 
going  to  be  very  careful  of  this.  No  mistakes  like 
that  again  for  Dick  Holly.)  "Just  cold,  hard 
business.  And  it  will  be  up  to  you  to  see  that  it's 
managed  right.  Those  who  don't  do  their  work 
will  have  to  come  to  you  and  get  their  time." 

The  girl  put  out  her  hand  and  felt  for  the  table. 
She  didn't  know  whether  to  laugh  or  cry  or  turn 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   255 

and  run  away.  Although  she  half  suspected  charity 
again  in  some  insidious  form  a  recollection  of  their 
first  day  together  in  this  same  room  came  to  her, 
and  with  it  her  intuition  of  his  loneliness.  It  was 
just  that,  after  all — just  loneliness.  And  he  was 
wanting  her  to  stay  and  help  and  remodel  and 
work  out  this  amazing  fantasy  for  helping  little 
boys 

"  I'll  be  holding  you  responsible "  She  heard 

his  warning  faintly,  as  if  he  spoke  from  a  long 
way  off.  And  then,  somehow,  the  sickness  seemed 
to  pass  away.  There  was  a  new  tone  in  his  voice 
for  her — something  that  suddenly  opened  up  an 
other  world  in  which  neither  antecedents,  nor 
anxieties,  nor  fripperies,  nor  futile  longings  held 
any  place. 

She  came  slowly  out  of  her  trance  and  looked 
up  at  him.  If  it  were  not  Love  that  was  shining 
on  her  out  of  his  eyes,  then  she  had  made  a  mis 
reading  from  which  she  could  never  recover. 

"  I  KNEW  YOU  WOULD!  "  he  shouted  ex 
citedly,  before  she  could  open  her  lips.  "  Good- 
by.  God  bless  you,  Clarice.  I'll— I'll— I'll  see 
you  at  breakfast,  to-morrow!  " 

And  he  was  suddenly  gone — rushing  out  of  the 
door. 


CHAPTER  XII 

ANOTHER  day  was  breaking,  although  it  was 
yet  a  little  while  to  dawn  when  she  awoke. 

When  it  came  at  last,  leaping  with  bright  fin 
gers  from  point  to  point,  she  ceased  her  wide- 
eyed  musing  and  stirred  exquisitely,  easing  the 
languor  from  her  limbs.  With  the  thick  rope 
of  her  hair  tumbling  across  a  snow-white  shoulder, 
the  girl  raised  herself  on  a  rounded  arm  among 
her  coverings  and  sat  looking  out  across  the  desert. 

The  plain  was  still  asleep.  Lifeless,  cool,  and 
gray,  it  seemed  a  great,  silent  sea  through  whose 
unmoving  surface  the  foothills  shouldered  up  like 
drowsy  amphibians  resting,  half  submerged,  along 
the  shore.  A  tinge  of  color  began  to  glow  on  the 
western  peaks.  Gliding  down  into  blue  abysses 
beyond,  it  brought  range  after  range  up  into  the 
light  and  picked  them  out  with  twinkling  facets. 
Marching  in  serried  rank  they  strode  forward 
out  of  their  obscurity — mountain-tops  and  crested 
buttes,  gaudily  flaming  cliffs  and  yellow  bluffs  of 

sand — while  unguessed  valleys  opened  out  between 

256 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   257 

under  gray  pools  of  mist  until  measurement  be 
came  futility. 

She  threw  out  her  arms  to  it  all,  with  a  thirsty 
intake  of  her  breath.  How  big  and  beautiful  the 
world  was  to-day — and  how  bright!  "Hurry! 
Hurry !  We  must  hurry !  "  her  heart  was  singing. 
"  We  must  not  lose  a  moment  of  this  glorious 
life !  So  much  to  do  1  So  much  to  feel !  Hasten ! 
HASTEN,  I  say!" 

She  slipped  from  her  bed  and  dressed  swiftly, 
plunging  her  face  and  arms  into  the  cold  water 
with  a  joyful  shudder  at  the  shock.  She  smiled 
without  reason  at  her  bright  image  as  she  knotted 
her  hair,  and  raised  her  beautifully  molded  arms 
above  her  head  with  a  delicious  stretch  and  a  thrill. 
Never  before  had  she  been  so  vigorous — so  all 
alive.  She  felt  hungry  for  action — for  something 
to  which  she  could  apply  this  suddenly  abounding 
vitality.  A  mocking-bird,  perched  high  in  a  shim 
mering  cottonwood  at  her  window,  called  to  her 
with  a  rippling  fall  of  notes,  and  she  stole  down 
the  stairs  and  out  of  the  silent  house. 

The  world  was  all  astir  again,  and  with  little 
runs  she  sped  eagerly  across  the  grass,  listening 
for  the  sweet  fall  of  water  in  the  brooks,  watching 
with  glistening  eyes  the  black-and-white  magpies 


258    THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

flirting  their  long  tails  on  the  fence-posts.  The 
orchard  glinted  with  ripening  fruit,  and  she 
brought  an  apple  to  Polly,  nosing  through  her 
bars.  Clarice  put  a  hand  to  the  mare's  neck  as  the 
cool  nose  muzzled  in  her  palm.  The  animal's  coat 
was  smooth  and  shining.  Someone  had  risen  even 
earlier  than  she,  herself. 

The  girl  turned  away  with  a  faint  smile  hover 
ing  around  her  lips.  Things  had  changed  since 
yesterday.  While  she  dared  not  name  the  happi 
ness  that  warmed  her  through  and  through,  yet  the 
song  her  heart  was  singing  had  but  one  refrain. 
Love  and  Life  were  drawing  nearer  for  Clarice. 
She  felt  herself  poised  on  the  shore  of  a  fragrant, 
sunlit  sea,  quivering  with  readiness  to  plunge  in 
and  swim  to  the  other  side. 

A  curl  of  smoke  wisped  up  from  the  kitchen 
and  a  martial  step  accompanied  by  an  abnormal 
clattering  of  pans  announced  that  Imogene  was  up 
and  stirring.  As  the  girl  re-entered  the  house  she 
paused  for  a  moment,  then  sped  lightly  up  to  her 
room.  When  she  joined  the  Strong  Woman  pot 
tering  over  breakfast  at  the  stove  she  held  a  news 
paper  covered  parcel  hidden  behind  her  back. 

"  Hello,  Bright  Eyes!  "  cried  Imogene  in  grand 
good  humor.  "  Up  with  all  the  little  birdies  this 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   259 

morning,  aren't  you,  Sweet?  How's  star-gazing 
these  nights,  Lovey  Dove?  Did  it  seem  like  the 
same  old  moon?  " 

"  I  wasn't " 

"  Oh,  you  can't  fib  to  me,  Vere  de  Vere.  /  saw 
you  rubbering  out  of  your  window.  It  was  long 
after  midnight  before  you  hit  the  feathers,  young 
lady!" 

"  Why — where  were  you  at  that  hour?  "  stam 
mered  Clarice. 

"Ah-hah!  Where  wasn't  I?"  the  other  re 
sponded  deviously,  backing  the  girl  into  a  corner 
and  imprisoning  the  blushing  face  between  her 
hands.  "  See  here,  Miss  Peaches-and-Cream. 
Don't  waste  your  time  worrying  about  old  Imo- 
gene  these  days — or  nights,  either.  You  haven't 
got  a  great  big  mining  operation  to  bother  you 
most  to  death  like  she  has.  What's  that  you're 
hiding  there  so  cute  behind  your  back?  Gimme 
it  instantly!  " 

"Go  away!"  laughed  the  girl,  and  struggled 
free;  "  don't  you  dare  touch  that  bundle!  Have 
you  got  a  good,  hot  fire,  Boggsey  Dear?" 

"  Perfectly  bully !  Want  an  egg  to  go  on  till 
breakfast?  You  can  have  anything  your  little 
heart  desires."  Imogene  was  in  uncommon  spirits 


260  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

this  morning,  although  there  were  certain  blisters 
on  her  hands  which,  Clarice  was  sure,  had  not  been 
there  the  day  before. 

The  girl  lifted  the  stove-lid  and  thrust  her 
bundle  in  among  the  coals;  then  stood  guard  over 
it  as  it  burned. 

"  You'll  scorch  all  your  back  breadth,  Honey," 
Imogene  observed,  as  she  sliced  her  potatoes. 
"  Going  riding  to-day,  are  you — you  and  the  Bid- 
die  boy?" 

"  Yes." 

"  I'd  like  to  ride,  too,"  sighed  the  Cook  Lady. 
"  I  wisht  I  was  young  and  real  strong  again.  I 
lose  my  temper  so  quick  nowadays  with  all  this 
high-art  cooking  in  the  food  that  I  bet  I'd  just 
about  kill  one  of  those  little  horses  if  he  didn't  go 
right.  And,  by  the  way,  speaking  of  athletics  " — 
and  she  seized  upon  the  other  with  an  accusing 
eye — "  I  haven't  heard  you  doing  your  exercises 
at  bedtime  lately,  Clarice." 

"  No,  ma'am,"  answered  Clarice  meekly,  as  the 
fire  began  a  gentle  roar  behind  her. 

"  People  in  our  line  of  business  have  gotta  keep 
in  shape,  you  know,"  the  Strong  Woman  reminded. 
"  You're  not  exactly  what  I'd  call  '  flat-chested,' 
yet — but  don't  you  get  too  darn  refined.  This 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   261 

mail-order  business  can  be  carried  entirely  too  far 


sometimes." 


The  girl  moved  a  little  farther  away  from  the 
reddening  stove  and  smiled. 

"  What  in  the  world's  come  over  young  Amy 
I  don't  know,1'  and  Imogene  clutched  a  loaf  of 
bread  in  her  hand  and  strode  around  the  kitchen 
hunting  anxiously  for  something  with  which  to  cut 
it.  She  found  it  on  the  doorstep,  where  the  Wild 
Man  had  been  making  beautiful  kindlings. 
"Now,  isn't  that  just  like  an  Indian?  Another 
day's  nicking  and  it  would  be  a  Christy  cake- 
knife!  Oh,  yes — about  Amy.  Well.  I've  been 
figuring  all  along  that  maybe  Amy  and  that  Biddle 
boy — What?  No?  You  don't  mean  it!" 

"  No,"  said  Clarice  loudly,  for  the  fire  was 
streaming  very  audibly  up  the  chimney. 

"  Well,  I'll  be  darned,"  and  Imogene  sliced 
viciously  for  a  moment.  "  I  hope  it  isn't  Mr. 
Holly  she's  so  bubbling  about." 

"No." 

The  fire  gave  out  a  final  roar  and  died 
down. 

Clarice  threw  back  her  head  and  laughed — 
recklessly — exultantly — a  full-hearted,  joyous  rip 
ple  of  happiness  that  sang  and  echoed  through  the 


262  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

kitchen  like  the  song  of  the  mocking-bird  perched 
outside  in  the  cottonwood  tree. 

It  was  all  over  at  last.  Off  with  the  old  life ! 
On  with  the  new !  The  last  relic  of  the  past  had 
dwindled  into  nothingness,  whisking  away  in  a 
cloud  of  blue  smoke  up  Imogene's  chimney. 

The  Strong  Woman  shot  a  suddenly  suspicious 
look  at  the  girl  and  cocked  her  ear. 

"  CLEAR  OUT!  "  she  cried,  advancing  with 
the  toasting-fork  brandished  on  high.  "  There's 
something  funny  going  on  here  behind  all  these 
meek  little  '  yesses  '  and  '  noses/  "  and  lifting  the 
stove-lid  she  peered  curiously  within.  Shapeless 
though  the  residuum  was,  enough  of  its  general 
outlines  was  left  to  confirm  the  Strong  Woman's 
dreadful  suspicions.  Of  that  which,  glittering  and 
spangled,  Imogene  had  been  wont  to  watch  gyrat 
ing  perilously  overhead  in  the  long  ago,  naught 
now  remained  but  a  handful  of  fluffy  incandescent 
ashes. 

The  Strong  Woman  whirled  about  with  a  fright 
ened  gasp  and  clutched  the  girl's  wrist  with  a 
tragic  hand. 

"  CLARICE!"  she  shrieked;  "YOU'VE 
BURNED  'EM.  YOU'VE  GONE  AND 
BURNED  UP  YOUR  TIGHTS !  " 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   263 

The  girl  stood  up  straight  and  strong. 

"  Yes,"  she  said  proudly.  "  That's  done— and 
I'm  done !  Never  again  for  me !  There  goes  my 
good-by  to  that  side  of  life  forever!  It's  been  a 
long  time  coming — but  it's  here  now!  And,  oh! 
Imogene.  I'm  glad— I'm  glad— I'm  GLAD !  " 

The  Strong  Woman  let  the  hand  fall  and  drew 
back  a  pace.  She  looked  both  heartbroken  and 
perplexed,  for  it  seemed  like  sacrilege  to  destroy 
so  ruthlessly  what  little  remained  of  the  old  asso 
ciations.  Perhaps,  to  tell  the  truth,  the  time  had 
never  been  when  Imogene  was  entirely  persuaded 
that  they  would  not  all  be  back  under  canvas  to 
gether  some  day.  Although  such  a  course  would 
have  been  opposed  to  her  saner  judgment,  yet  the 
habits  of  a  lifetime  were  not  easily  disposed  of. 

"  But  aren't  you  ever  going  on  with  your  act 
again?"  she  quavered,  on  the  point  of  tears. 

The  girl  did  her  best  to  smile.  She  knew  that 
the  older  woman  was  only  voicing  a  protest  against 
such  swift  disruption  of  the  old  ties,  for  the  tones 
carried  an  unconscious  welling  up  of  affection  for 
the  better  parts  of  what  once  had  been.  But  there 
were  to  be  no  faint-hearted  yearnings  now — it 
would  all  have  to  go — the  good  with  the  bad. 

She  knew  she  could  never  ask  for  them  again — 


264  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

the  thump  of  the  canvas  under  the  wind — the 
smell  of  new-turned  earth — the  flare  of  the  torches 
at  night — the  pale  sea  of  faces  rocking  far  below. 
Most  of  it,  like  the  most  of  other  things,  had  been 
good.  While  the  time  for  regrets  had  passed,  yet 
the  fact  remained  that  the  comradeship,  which 
had  been  the  best  of  it  all,  the  care-free  jauntings 
over  the  land  through  the  bright,  summer 
weather,  the  life  of  the  Open  Road  would  be 
no  more. 

The  girl  shook  her  head  mutely,  her  eyes  cast 
down. 

"  I  didn't  know,"  said  Imogene  with  a  sorrow 
ful  hiccough  as  she  turned  to  her  work  once  more. 
"  I  get  real  low  in  my  mind  sometimes — think 
ing  about  things.  I  know  you're  right  and 
I  know  I  was  right  when  I  told  you  long  ago  to 
quit,  but  still — it's  hard  to  break  away.  Thank 
heavens,  I  didn't  bring  my  five-hundred-pound 
dumb-bells  along  where  Mrs.  Muggoosulum  could 
see  'em.  I  don't  know  just  how  I  would  get  rid 
of  them." 

"  But  however  did  you  get  put  up  to  this  so  all 
at  once?"  Imogene  continued,  with  a  suddenly 
awakening  eye.  "  It  ain't  like  you  to  be  so  terrible 
dramatic,  Clarice."  Symbolism  in  even  a  diluted 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   265 

form  found  a  disgusted  translator  in  Imogene. 
Once  the  Strong  Woman's  common  sense  had  be 
gun  to  reject  the  sentimental  side  of  the  proceed 
ing  she  hunted  industriously  for  a  motive. 

Clarice's  answer  was  composed  of  an  indistinct 
murmur,  a  fidget,  and  an  alarming  blush. 

"Humph!"  remarked  the  discerning  Strong 
Woman.  "  There  seems  to  be  a  terrible  lot  of 
moony-wooning  going  on  round  here.  I  guess  you 
and  that  young  Amy  are  a  pair." 

It  was  about  this  time  that  the  genial  odors  of 
Imogene's  cooking  began  to  penetrate  other  parts 
of  the  house,  and  Biddle,  in  puttees  and  riding- 
clothes,  soon  made  his  appearance,  frankly  glad 
that  Miss  Belvawney  had  not  forgotten  to  make 
ready  for  their  ride,  a  fact  which  he  promptly 
made  known  to  her  with  a  jocular  boldness  which 
had  always  served  well  in  such  cases,  while  his 
eye  roamed  over  her  and  said  other  things.  There 
was  little  of  it  that  he  missed — the  fine  surface 
of  her  throat  above  the  rolling  collar  of  her 
blouse — the  lights  in  her  hair,  bound  with  a  bright 
fillet  of  ribbon — the  curves  of  lip  and  chin.  In  her 
eyes  he  saw  a  wider  horizon — an  indefinable  addi 
tion  to  what  had  been  there  yesterday.  Something 
had  occurred  to  vitalize  her  face  with  a  brighter 


266  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

light  and  lend  a  happy  ring  to  her  amused  re 
sponses.  Searching  hopefully  for  his  own  image 
back  of  it  all,  he  thought  that  he  had  found  it 
at  last. 

Silent  Imogene,  stealing  a  look  away  from  her 
stove,  felt  a  faint  stir  around  her  heart.  A  senti 
mental  fragment  out  of  her  own  wooing  was  vouch 
safed  her — something  about  "  the  wild  freshness 
of  the  morning."  But,  after  all,  it  was  Clarice 
who  first  saw  Imogene's  scrambled  eggs  sticking 
to  the  pan  and  suddenly  decided  that  the  Polly 
horse  must  be  watered  and  that  Biddle  must  strap 
a  camera  to  his  saddle  and  a  bottle  for  the  horned- 
toads  that  Cobrita  was  collecting,  and  so  maneu 
vered  herself  out  of  one  door  and  Biddle  out  of 
another  before  the  Strong  Woman  realized  what 
was  happening. 

Imogene  began  to  feel  a  certain  ineptness  in  con 
trolling  Clarice's  destinies.  "  The  fresh  wild  ones 
of  the  morning,  I  guess,"  she  sniffed  contemptu 
ously.  "  Now,  where  did  I  dig  that  up  from? 
Trust  that  young  lady  to  manage  her  own  affairs — 
so  long  as  she  can  chin  herself  ten  times  with  her 
left  hand,  anyway.  But  that  Biddle  boy's  in  a 
bad  way.  He  doesn't  even  know  what's  struck 
him."  Imogene  paused  and  looked  anxiously 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   267 

about  her  kitchen  for  something  that  sounded  sus 
piciously  like  a  mouse. 

"  Why,  hullo,  Wild  Man!  "  she  cried  in  relief, 
as  that  individual  appeared  in  the  doorway  with  all 
the  self-announcement  of  a  shadow.  "  Have  you 
fed  Pretty  Percy  his  little  dish  of  puffed  hay  this 
beautiful  pea-green  morning?" 

"  Ya-a-s-s,"  was  the  faithful  one's  response.  "  I 
guess  Drybone  going  crazy  'bout  his  hay — may- 
beso  next  week."  The  Wild  Man  lolled  against  the 
door-jamb  and  stared  shamelessly  at  nothing,  as 
only  an  Indian  can  do. 

"  Say,  Imogene,"  he  ventured  with  a  suddenly 
sly  look.  "  About  your  mine.  I  was  up  there 
just  now  and  I  dunno  where  that  vein  is  after  we 
bias'  las'  night.  /  look  all  around  and  /  doan  see 
it.  An'  Dog  Face  Joe  and  Piute  Johnny-Man — 
they  look  and  they  doan  seen  it.  Maybeso — that 

— vein — of  yours "  The  Wild  Man  was 

not  sufficiently  courageous  to  express  the  dis 
turbing  doubts  which  lurked  in  his  mind,  but  he 
allowed  himself  a  knowing  grin.  Presently  the 
grin  faded,  for  he  saw  the  Strong  Woman  regard 
ing  him  with  a  murderous  eye. 

"  Come  on  inside,  Wild  Man,"  suggested  the 


268   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

Strong  Woman,  luring  him  in  with  the  frying-pan. 
"  It's  nice  in  here" 

The  Wild  Man  came  in. 

"  Sit  down"  the  voice  went  on  in  the  same 
dulcet  tones. 

The  Wild  man  sat  down. 

"Now,  what  was  it  you  were  thinking  of 
saying  about  my  little  mine?"  purred  Imo- 
gene. 

"  YASS !  "  said  the  Wild  Man  promptly,  with 
a  gulp  of  alarm  as  he  discerned  not  only  the  frying- 
pan  but  also  the  butcher-knife  glittering  in  the 
near  distance.  "  YASS !  Imogene.  /  think  you've 
got  a  good  mine.  Yass !  Don't  let  anybody  tole 
you  different." 

"  Well!  "  said  the  relieved  Imogene.  "  That's 
a  great  deal  better.  If  there's  one  thing  I  can't 
abide  it's  people  making  up  opinions  out  of  their 
brains  when  they  haven't  rightly  got  either. 
WHY!  "  she  exclaimed,  with  a  world  of  disgust 
in  her  tones;  "'twas  me  that  taught  you  and  that 
no-good  Piute  Johnny  all  you  ever  knew  about 
mines."  She  centered  his  wavering  eyes  with  a 
meaning  glance.  "  I  guess  you're  troubled  the 
same  like  I  was  with  them  mean  little  porphy- 
ritic  amygdaloids  sorensifying  the  scorified  zone 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   269 

and  mussing  up  my  nice  diabase,  ain't  you,  Wild 
Man?" 

"  YASS !  Amig—amig— well— that's  what!  " 
replied  the  Wild  Man  hurriedly.  "  Why,  yass, 
Imogene.  That's  just  what  I  was  toleing 
Johnny." 

"  It's  breakfast  time  now,"  Imogene  interrupted, 
"  so  get  out  your  white  apron  and  play  on  your 
triangle.  And  don't  try  to  serve  any  of  those  cute 
little  amygdaloids  for  breakfast-food — 'cause  they 
won't  get!" 

The  two  on  horseback  rode  down  the  draw  to 
gether  towards  the  desert.  Biddle,  following  the 
crimson  scarf  fluttering  ahead,  saw  the  girl  riding 
like  the  wind,  sitting  well  down  in  the  saddle  and 
swinging  freely  above  the  waist  with  the  effort 
less  carriage  of  a  cowpuncher,  but  presently  she 
reined  in  with  a  laugh  that  rang  pure  ecstasy  and 
let  the  plunging  Skylark  and  his  rider  rack  into 
a  walk  beside  her.  Piqued  at  being  outdistanced, 
the  man  watched  keenly  for  the  ancient  feminine 
query  in  her  eyes,  for  when  a  woman  does  some 
thing  as  well  as  a  man,  the  sweetest  praise  is  mas 
culine.  But  he  heard  no  more  than  the  sweet  sim 
mering  away  of  her  pleasure,  and  when  he  looked 


270  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

into  her  face  he  saw  that  she  asked  for  nothing 
he  could  give. 

Yet  Biddle  was  far  from  being  discouraged  in 
his  quest  for  a  flirtation.  Although  a  two  weeks' 
investigation  of  this  particularly  rebellious  case 
had  revealed  nothing  more  than  a  disconcerting 
sense  of  remoteness,  he  was  not  entirely  baffled. 
There  were  a  multitude  of  paths  yet  to  be  trod. 

In  the  meantime,  however,  he  had  been  getting 
in  deeper  than  he  had  bargained  for.  Vouchsafed 
a  last  glimmer  of  light  before  the  lethal  waters  of 
infatuation  closed  over  his  head,  there  was  some 
discomfort  in  the  thought  that  his  interest  could 
be  absorbed  by  anyone  having  so  strange  a  point 
of  view.  Principally,  he  was  troubled  by  her  re 
fusal  to  see  that  he  must,  necessarily,  represent 
more  of  that  which  was  desirable  to  a  woman  than 
any  man  she  must  have  known. 

The  Philadelphian  had  been  conscious  of  this 
lack  of  appreciation  all  along,  and  it  had  seemed 
a  radical  defect.  He  felt  an  almost  childish  anger 
because  she  would  not  show  more  interest  in  those 
important  things  that  made  up  his  life  in  the  East. 
Women,  he  knew,  thought  first  of  advantageous 
position  in  life,  and  next,  of  things  to  put  on  their 
backs.  There  was  not  one,  in  the  dubious  section 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   271 

of  his  acquaintance,  at  least,  whose  eyes  he  could 
not  brighten  by  ringing  the  changes  on  those  two 
notes,  and  so,  although  it  made  him  feel  very 
cheap,  he  soon  descended  to  a  trial  of  her  covetous- 
ness. 

But  Clarice  wouldn't  enthuse.  It  was  not  that 
she  wasn't  diverted  by  his  personally  conducted 
tours  into  the  sacred  limits  of  his  clubs  and  the 
homes  of  his  friends,  but  merely  that  she  was  not 
at  all  interested  in  him,  the  man,  Biddle  Warder, 
of  Walnut  Street  and  Rittenhouse  Square — which 
was  what  he  wanted. 

Biddle  was  sorely  puzzled  but  mastered  his 
pique  as  best  he  could  and  broke  into  something 
amusing.  The  day  was  yet  young. 

Clarice  gave  him  one  of  her  clear-eyed,  joyous 
looks.  "  I'm  always  so  happy  out  here  in  this 
vastness.  If  I  hadn't  a  sense  of  humor  I'd  like 
to  sing!" 

"  Pray,  don't  let  my  probable  amusement  re 
strain  you,"  he  bantered. 

"  Not  I,"  she  laughed.  "  I'm  only  afraid  of 
the  mountains.  I  wouldn't  mind  you  in  the 
least." 

"  Pm  quite  aware  of  that,"  he  retorted,  with 
seeming  injury,  and  looked  away.  The  silence  be- 


272   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

ing  prolonged  unduly,  he  looked  back,  and  found 
her  thoughtlessly  whirling  her  quirt  and  humming 
to  herself.  The  trick  had  not  availed. 

"  Oh,  yes.  The  desert's  very  fine,"  he  hastened 
to  say,  "  but  don't  you  like  the  cities,  too?  You'd 
suit  the  city  perfectly — you're  not  really  made  for 
this." 

"  But  I've  seen  the  cities— all  of  them,"  the  girl 
replied. 

"  Not  in  the  best  way,"  he  stated,  despatching  a 
barbed  arrow.  "  The  best  things  have  all  been 
closed  to  you.  You've  virtually  seen  nothing  at 
all." 

"  That's  why  I  like  the  West,"  she  smiled,  un- 
offended.  "  There  isn't  so  much  closed  to  me 
out  here." 

Biddle  repressed  his  pity.  "  I'm  afraid  there's 
a  great  deal  closed  to  you,"  he  said. 

The  girl  thought  for  a  moment.  "  I  suppose 
you  mean  things  to  do  and  see,"  she  remarked. 
"  But  I  always  see  everything.  I  know  lots  of 


nice  men." 


Biddle  looked  doubtful.  "  What  kind  of  men — 
and  where?  " 

"  Oh,  ai-vry-where,"  she  drawled  absently.  "  I 
know  some  in  nearly  every  State." 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   273 

"  But  they  couldn't  have  been " 

"What?" 

"  I  was  wondering  who  they  could  have  been," 
said  Biddle,  catching  himself. 

"  Rich  Man,  Poor  Man,  Beggar  Man,  Thief," 
chanted  the  girl  with  amused  reminiscence.  "  But 
I  never  could  see  much  difference  in  them  as  far 
as  their  businesses  went,"  she  stated  honestly. 
"  About  the  best  of  the  lot  were  a  revolutionist 
and  a  milkman — and  I  believe  I  liked  the  milkman 
best." 

Biddle  stared.  "  Tell  me  about  the  revolution 
ist,"  he  said  hurriedly. 

"  Oh,  he  was  nice,  too,  and  there  wasn't  a  place 
in  the  world  where  he  hadn't  been.  He's  doing 
very  nicely  now  in  San  Francisco,  he  writes  me, — 
starting  up  little  revolutions  down  in  South  Amer 
ica  and  selling  them  bombs  and  gold  lace. 

"  And  then  there  was  the  poor  old  actor  in 
Chicago — Charley  Belnorde — whose  wife  died  and 
left  him  with  little  twin  babies.  I  took  care  of 
them  all  the  time  I  worked  at  the  White  City. 
Charley  hadn't  any  money — no  one  ever  had," 
laughed  Clarice.  "  So  when  I  went  away  he  gave 
me  a  play  he'd  been  working  on  for  nearly  ten 
years.  I  guess  it  wasn't  a  very  good  play,  but  dear 


274  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

old  Charley  didn't  know  it,  so  his  giving  it  to  me 
meant  a  good  deal. 

"And  after  that  I  went  out  under  canvas  again, 
and  the  Lion  Tamer,  who  was  a  Russian,  taught 
me  all  about  his  animals.  Don't  you  think  they're 
very  interesting?  I  do.  Why!"  she  exclaimed, 
with  lovely-eyed  nai'vete;  "almost  everything  I 
can  do  with  lions  and  tigers  I  learned  from  him ! 
And  then,  one  day,  they  hurt  him,  and  I  found  a 
young  German  doctor  in  the  crowd  for  him,  and  the 
doctor  and  I  got  to  be  great  friends.  After  that 
the  doctor  went  along  with  us  for  two  weeks  or 
more.  He  said  it  was  his  vacation,  but  I  didn't 
know  doctors  could  take  vacations.  And  because 
he  was  fixing  up  poor  old  Glassinsky,  who  wouldn't 
leave  the  show,  they  gave  him  a  seat  next  to  me, 
and  he  would  explain  all  about  his  surgical  cases  to 
me  at  the  table.  He  made  it  perfectly  absorbing. 

"  But  there  were  lots  more,"  said  Clarice. 
"  And  some  of  them  went  away  suddenly,  like 
the  doctor,  and  some  of  them  wrote  for  a  while — 
it's  funny  how  a  big,  strong  man  can  write  the 
silliest  letters — and  I'm  afraid  that  some  of  them 
died,  but  they  were  all  very  nice  men  and  awfully 
good  to  me.  And  they  were  always  very  poor." 

The  girl  paused  and  dropped  into  silent  reverie. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   275 

"  What  a  funny,  funny  life  for  a  girl  to  lead,"  she 
said  after  a  time.  "  If  I'd  had  a  father  or  a 
mother  or  anything,  I  suppose  they  would  have 
made  me  understand  that  it  was  all  wrong,  but, 
somehow,  it  never  seemed  so — I  guess  because  I 
could  always  take  care  of  myself.  The  best  part 
of  it  all  is  that  I've  come  into  all  these  people's 
lives  and  stayed  a  while  and,  even  though  I  had  to 
move  on  again,  I  know  it  helped  me." 

"  So  I  suppose,"  Biddle  nodded,  absorbed  in 
the  play  of  feeling  and  recollection  in  her  face. 
He  was  fast  forgetting  his  dissatisfaction,  for  the 
fascination  was  gripping  him  more  tightly  every 
minute. 

"  Did  you  bring  a  canteen?  "  she  asked,  with  a 
sudden  turn  of  the  conversation.  "  It's  growing 
hot." 

"  I  never  thought  of  it,"  Biddle  confessed. 
"  Perhaps  we'd  better  look  for  the  Hidden  Spring 
that  the  Blondellis  spoke  about.  Aren't  those  the 
*  White  Sands  '  over  there  towards  the  west?  " 

1  Yes,  I  can  see  them  glittering.  It's  all  of  five 
miles,  I  guess.  We'll  be  late  for  dinner  unless  we 
find  the  spring  right  away." 

"We'll  find  it,"  Biddle  stated  confidently.  "  I 
make  it  a  point  to  get  what  I  want." 


276  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

As  they  came  nearer  to  the  long  belt  of  white 
sand  the  vegetation  grew  sparser  and  finally  ceased, 
and  when  they  had  climbed  a  ridge  they  found 
themselves  on  the  edge  of  what  looked  like  a 
petrified  sea.  Enormous  gullies  and  swales  cut 
through  the  expanse  of  white  sand  in  every  direc 
tion,  their  tops  curling  over  like  waves  about  to 
break  and  giving  off  a  spray  of  sand  under  the 
touch  of  the  wind. 

After  an  hour's  fruitless  riding  and  searching 
had  brought  them  to  the  other  shore,  Biddle  began 
to  grow  impatient.  "  I'll  tell  you  what  we'll  do," 
he  said  roughly.  "  We'll  just  turn  right  around 
and  go  back  again.  I  came  out  to  find  this  spring 
and  I'm  going  to  do  it.  Those  acrobatic  *  Micks  ' 
can't  get  ahead  of  me. 

"  Do  you  think  I'm  too  peevish?  "  he  laughed, 
with  a  dangerous  inflection,  and  rode  Skylark  closer 
to  Polly. 

"  If  I  thought  of  you  at  all,"  she  parried,  trying 
out  a  touch  of  the  new  delightful  insolence  she 
had  learned. 

With  this  remark  Biddle's  bad  side  came  up  like 
a  flash. 

"  Of  course,  I  know  you  never  think  of  men  or 
love,"  he  said.  "  But  I'm  less  fortunate.  I 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   277 

find  myself   thinking   of    a    certain   girl    all   the 


time." 


"Haven't  you  been  warned?"  she  laughed. 
"  Keep  your  eyes  off  Cobrita.  Harry  was  a  prize 
fighter,  once." 

"  Oh,  bother  Cobrita,"  he  fumed. 

"How  stupid  of  me,"  she  interrupted.  "  I  for 
got  that  first  cousins  could  marry " 

"  Wrong  again,"  he  smiled  fatuously.  "  It 
seems  to  me  it's  very  hard  when  one  needs  advice 
about  these  things  to  be  met  with  mocking  indif 
ference — I  was  counting  on  you  to  help.  Tell  me 
what  you  think  about  this  case.  Here  is  a  man, 
for  instance " 

"A  man?"  She  stood  up  in  her  stirrups. 
"Where  is  the  man?" 

"  Right  here,"  he  snapped,  off  his  guard. 

"  Oh,  yes.  In  this  case  you  are  a  man — I  mean, 
the  man.  And  then?" 

"  I  am  very  much  in  love,"  he  said  doggedly, 
and,  for  a  wonder,  believed  it. 

"  He  is  very  much  in  love,"  she  murmured 
and  laughed  at  a  lizard,  flickering  away  under 
foot. 

«  With " 

"  With  Imogene,"  she  broke  in  provokingly. 


278   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

"  But  what  will  you  do  with  Altamont?  "  It  was 
time  for  him  to  stop  now.  If  he  wouldn't — well — 
there  was  always  Polly.  She  touched  the  pony  with 
her  foot  and  dashed  ahead.  Taken  by  surprise, 
Biddle  kicked  Skylark  in  the  ribs  and  rushed  after 
her.  Here  and  there  in  delirious  zig-zags  the 
two  raced  along  through  the  White  Sands  until 
the  horses  began  to  pant  under  the  hot  work,  and 
the  girl  drew  rein.  Turning  a  flushed  face,  she 
laughed  out  what  was  to  be  the  last  touch  of  the  fun 
which  good  sense  forbade  her. 

And  so  he  found  himself  temptingly  close,  and 
looking  down  into  the  dark  eyes  of  the  girl  who 
had  piqued  and  puzzled  him  for  the  best  part  of 
a  month.  There  was  not  a  single  blemish  on  the 
lovely,  laughing  face.  The  swiftly  coursing  blood 
had  stained  her  smooth  cheek  to  the  tint  of  a  fresh, 
wild  rose.  The  perfect  bow  of  her  mouth  was 
like  some  ripe,  tantalizing  fruit.  Her  head,  back- 
tilted,  could  not  have  been  better  poised  to  lure  him 
on.  Only  her  eyes  baffled  him  still,  half  in  love 
as  he  was,  half  furious  with  her  unyielding  re 
serve,  and  as  he  leaned  closer  out  of  his  saddle,  it 
came  over  him  suddenly  that  she  was  not  laugh 
ing  with  him  but  at  him.  All  that  there  was  for 
Biddle  Warder  in  that  beautiful,  provoking  face 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  279 

was  a  strong  woman's  mockery  of  man's  foolish 
ness. 

Under  this  last  taunt  the  viciousness  of  the 
young  man's  nature  brooked  little  delay  in  ful 
filling  its  inclinations.  Without  warning  and  be 
fore  she  could  start  back  or  escape,  an  arm  was 
flung  about  her.  She  felt  herself  caught  up  against 
him,  with  his  maddened  face  pressed  against  hers, 
his  lips  forcing  brutal  kisses  on  her  mouth  and  eyes 
and  cheek. 

An  awful  terror  seized  her,  who  had  never  been 
afraid  of  anything  before.  Lifted  roughly  up 
from  her  stirrups,  she  hung  suffocated  and  help 
less  in  his  arms  until,  with  the  moment's  passing, 
she  felt  the  saddle  and  stirrups  again.  Then,  half 
blind  with  rage  and  terribly  frightened  by  that  one 
instant  of  helplessness,  the  girl  twisted  about  and 
struck  out  with  all  her  force. 

Although  only  that  very  day  the  Strong  Woman 
had  reminded  her  of  the  necessary  daily  stint, 
there  was  never  a  time  when  the  girl's  muscles  re 
sponded  so  fully.  Not  even  the  most  heart-clutch 
ing  parabola  through  space  from  the  bar  of  her 
trapeze  had  ever  called  forth  half  the  strength 
that  lay  behind  this  blow.  She  struck  with  the 
desperation  of  one  struggling  in  the  throes  of 


280  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

nightmare  and  doubly  strengthened  by  the  strange 
ness  of  fright.  Then,  with  never  a  backward 
look  at  the  crumpled  figure  whirling  in  sick  aban 
donment  from  the  saddle,  she  threw  out  her  arms 
and  drew  in  her  heels  with  the  impelling  force  that 
every  wise  little  cow-pony  knows,  and  was  off  in  a 
mad  gallop. 

It  was  quiet  over  there — among  the  White 
Sands.  A  noonday  sun  poured  its  flood-tide  across 
the  waste  and  stilled  what  life  there  was  until  it 
seemed  as  sterile  as  a  scar.  For  all  there  was 
of  sound  it  might  have  been  a  pool  where  the 
silences  of  the  universe  lay  concentrated.  Only 
there  came  the  gentle  purr  of  the  wind  across  the 
ridges  and  the  faint  hiss  of  the  sand  streaming 
down  a  slope.  Under  the  scarps  of  the  jutting 
reefs,  the  shadows  lay  in  grotesque,  inky  sprawls 
on  a  snow-white  bed  that  gleamed  and  glittered. 
And  over  all  Heat  laid  a  palsying,  leaden  hand. 

Through  the  heart  of  the  white  silence  a  pony 
was  coming,  ambling  through  the  maze  of  swales 
and  stoically  climbing  the  ridges  to  plunge,  stiff- 
legged  down  the  other  side.  Beyond  the  creak 
ing  of  the  saddle  leathers,  the  only  sound  in  the 
death-like  stillness  was  that  of  a  girl  crying  to 
herself. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  281 

With  brimming  eyes  set  straight  before  her,  she 
was  weeping  out  her  grief  freely  and  unashamed. 
In  the  midst  of  her  childlike  happiness — when  at 
last  she  seemed  nearing  attainment  of  a  few  of  her 
poor  little  hopes  of  self-improvement — the  Beast 
had  been  thrust  upon  her,  leering  and  insensate. 
She  gave  a  long,  shuddering  cry  and  shook  her 
head  blindly,  sick  with  suspicion  of  what  evil 
thoughts  in  the  past  must  have  been  leading  up  to 
this  denouement. 

Suddenly  Polly  pricked  up  her  ears  and  turned 
her  head.  The  girl  also  turned  and  looked  back 
with  a  set  face.  A  riderless  horse  was  galloping 
after  them,  its  head  held  up  with  the  exulting  air 
of  the  runaway. 

The  girl  swung  Polly  around  and  began  a  slow 
approach.  Whereupon  the  suspicious  Skylark 
lowered  his  head  and  sidled  away  with  a  crab- 
like  motion  calculated  to  deceive.  When  cap 
ture  seemed  almost  certain  he  threw  up  his  head 
with  a  snort  and  broke  away  through  the  brush. 

Clarice  drew  rein  and  debated.  A  moment 
more,  and  she  had  decided,  and  for  a  second  time 
that  day  Polly's  head  was  pointed  in  the  direction 
of  the  White  Sands. 

Noon  passed  and  early   afternoon  came   and 


282  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

went.  Mid-afternoon,  with  the  sun-dried  air  still 
and  choking,  found  her  pale  but  nevertheless  un 
swerving  in  her  search.  A  pall  of  dust  hung 
round  her  and  caked  in  a  glistening  white 
coat  on  the  pony's  skin.  Her  tongue  was  thick 
like  flannel  between  her  lips.  Time  and  again  she 
was  forced  to  stop  and  cover  her  eyes  while  they 
recovered  from  the  blinding  glare.  Here  and 
there  she  found  footprints,  but  wherever  she 
followed  she  always  found  the  bootmarks  return 
ing.  To  make  matters  worse,  the  swiftly  caving 
sand  and  the  tireless  wind  were  fast  obliterating 
the  trail.  Looking  about  her  with  tired,  smarting 
eyes  she  finally  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  dark  edge 
of  green  above  some  hummocks  not  far  away. 
If  that  were  the  Hidden  Spring,  her  own  condi 
tion  as  well  as  Polly's  demanded  that  something 
be  dpne  at  once,  so  she  wearily  turned  the  pony's 
head.  A  few  minutes'  heavy  plodding  and  she 
had  gained  the  course  which  led  directly  to  the 
clump  of  mesquite.  Something  was  lying  huddled 
up  on  the  ground  beside  the  spring  and  as  she 
came  nearer  she  saw  that  her  search  was  ended. 
She  had  found  him. 

"  I've  had  a  hard  time,"  Biddle  said,  staring 
at  her  stupidly.     "  The  darn  sun,  you  know — and 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   283 

those  foots — feets — feetprints — I  followed  and  I 
followed  and  it  wasn't  any  use "  His  utter 
ances  faded  away  in  a  senseless  clucking. 

Something  clutched  at  the  girl's  heart  and  she 
dropped  on  her  knees  beside  him.  "  Never  mind 
now,  Mr.  Warder,"  she  said  hurriedly.  "  Don't 
talk  about  it  any  more,"  and  she  helped  him  bathe 
his  face.  "  I've  come  to  take  you  home.  We'll 
get  out  of  here  right  away." 

"  You  can't,"  said  Biddle  with  thick  certainty. 
11  Nobody  can.  I've  tried  and  tried  and  it  can't  be 
done.  If  it  wasn't  for  this  water  I'd  be  dead." 
He  sank  down  again. 

The  trapeze-woman  put  out  her  hand  for  Polly's 
rein. 

"  Come,"  she  said  decisively.  "  Rouse  yourself. 
Get  up  here  on  this  horse."  Seeing  that  she  had 
waked  him,  she  grasped  him  by  the  shoulder  and 
shook  him  forcibly.  "  Get  up !  "  she  cried.  "  Get 
up  at  once  and  do  as  I  tell  you !  " 

A  look  of  fright  passed  over  the  man's  face. 
Obeying  her  with  more  or  less  uncertain  wob- 
blings  he  managed  to  get  on  his  feet. 

"  Where's  old  Skylark?  "  he  asked,  and  she  felt 
his  weight  fall  back  on  her  as  she  was  helping  him 
mount.  "  This  is  your  horse.  This  is  Polly." 


284   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

"  Skylark's  not  far  away.  Oh,  do  get  up,  Mr. 
Warder,"  she  urged,  and  nearly  frantic  with  this 
strange  foe  which  seemed  almost  like  drunkenness, 
she  put  forth  her  abundant  strength  and  lifted  the 
man  into  the  saddle. 

"  By  George!  "  he  breathed  admiringly,  as  he 
clutched  at  the  pommel.  "  You're  all  right,  Miss 
— er — Miss — why!  I  can't  think  of  your  name! 
I  weigh  a  hundred  and  sixty,  and  you  lifted  me 
just  like  a  baby.  I  sort  of  feel  like  a  baby,  too," 
he  murmured.  "  I  wonder  what's  the  matter!  " 

It  was  a  curious-looking  party  that  finally 
emerged  from  the  White  Sands  onto  the  harder 
floor  of  the  desert.  The  man  was  swaying,  bent 
over  in  the  saddle;  the  woman  was  well-nigh  ex 
hausted  from  the  heavy  walking.  She  had  lost 
her  color  and  her  cheeks  were  lined  with  the 
strain.  The  dry,  lifeless  air  choked  her  and 
slapped  her  across  the  face  like  a  stuffy  blanket. 
In  spite  of  the  drink  she  had  had  at  the  Spring 
she  felt  consumed  with  thirst.  She  stopped  and 
leaned  dizzily  against  the  mare's  neck.  It  was  go 
ing  to  be  hard  work  to  reach  the  ranch. 

Suddenly  Biddle  came  out  of  his  lethargy. 
After  a  bewildered  look  at  the  white-faced  woman 
he  slid  down  from  the  pony. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  285 

"  I  guess  I'm  all  right  now,"  he  said  thickly. 
"  It's  your  turn  to  ride." 

She  made  painful  negation  with  her  swimming 
head,  while  she  bit  her  lips  to  keep  from  fainting. 
Yet  she  saw  he  was  looking  at  her  with  only  a  plea 
for  her  own  welfare  in  his  eyes.  She  saw  he  was 
remembering  some  of  it  now,  and  that  he  was 
speaking  to  her  out  of  the  Pit  of  Shame. 

"  I  wish  you  would  get  on  this  horse,  Miss  Bel- 
vawney.  I  can  see  now  a  little  bit  of  what  you've 
really  done  for  me  to-day. — God  knows  I'd  feel 
better  if  I'd  realized  it  sooner.  I  know  perfectly 
well  I  can't  make  you  get  on,"  he  added  forlornly. 
"  Somehow,  the  man  of  the  party  doesn't  seem  to 
be  much  of  a  man  to-day — but  I'll  tell  you 
nevertheless,  that  I  mean  to  walk  the  rest  of 
the  way  if  it  kills  me — and  that  you  had  better 
ride." 

Too  tired  even  to  speak,  she  was  still  obstinately 
shaking  her  head  when  she  saw  Polly  turn  and 
look  across  the  desert. 

"  She  must  be  looking  at  Skylark,"  the  girl  whis 
pered,  and  with  this  new  hope  to  steady  them  the 
two  walked  on  and  found  that  the  pony's  instinct 
was  unerring.  Skylark,  much  subdued,  was  wait 
ing  for  them  on  the  shady  side  of  a  deep  wash, 


286  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

under  a  ledge  of  rock.  The  episode,  and  its  after 
math,  were  nearly  over. 

Drawing  near  to  the  ranch  in  the  early  evening, 
Biddle  looked  behind  them  and  broke  the  long 
silence. 

14  There's  a  pillar  of  dust  back  there  where  we 
were,"  he  said.  "  I  wonder  who  it  can  be?  " 

The  woman  turned  her  head  away,  the  better 
to  disguise  a  warm  rush  of  life  that  flooded  her 
tired  body.  Never  a  doubt  existed  in  her  mind 
as  to  who  was  down  there  on  the  plain  and  who, 
having  seen  them  headed  safely  homewards,  was 
unobtrusively  coming  in  their  wake.  Her  eyes 
lighted  up  with  a  replica  of  the  morning's  shinings. 
The  day  was  going  to  end,  after  all,  as  it  had 
begun — in  happiness. 

"I  wonder,"  said  Clarice,  and  smiled. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

IN  speaking  of  the  next  twelve  hours  it  is  our 
apt  vernacular  which  best  describes  Biddle's  min 
gled  feelings,  and  it  may  be  truthfully  said  that 
Biddle  had  a  "  hard  night."  Not  even  the  cold 
bottle  of  beer  consumed  in  desperation  at  midnight 
out  of  a  tumbled  bed  was  successful  in  inducing 
sleep,  and  the  young  man  lay  on  his  back  for 
hours  staring  up  into  the  darkness  with  burning 
eyes,  while  the  long  arm  of  a  cottonwood,  whis 
pering  in  the  night  wind,  tapped  against  his  case 
ment  and  a  tree-toad  croaked  a  cool  though  lonely 
note.  As  soon  as  his  recollections  began  to  crys 
tallize,  it  was  borne  in  on  him  that  he  had  not  been 
thrown  from  his  horse  at  all.  Neither  had  he  been 
artfully  kicked  by  a  departing  hoof  nor  stunned 
by  striking  his  head  on  the  ground.  Instead,  he 
had  been  "  put  down  for  the  count " — "  knocked 
out  cold  " — by  a  woman. 

Biddle's  shame  was  of  the  teeth-grinding  vari 
ety.  To  add  to  the  pleasure  of  the  night  watches, 
that  obnoxious  imp  who  sometimes  sits  on  our  foot 
board  and  gleefully  repeats  the  day's  idiocies, 

287 


288   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

hunted  the  boy  out  and  tortured  him  without 
mercy.  Nothing  was  omitted,  nothing  minimized, 
nothing  forgotten.  The  shameful  facts  were 
spelled  before  his  wide  eyes  in  flaming  letters,  and 
his  punishment  branded  on  him  with  a  hissing 
iron.  After  a  while  he  got  up  and  wandered  dis 
consolately  down  the  hall  to  the  shower-bath.  The 
cold  douche  served  to  turn  the  current  of  his 
thoughts  and  he  began  to  marvel  at  what  the  girl 
had  done.  It  also  occurred  to  him  that  she  was 
undoubtedly  much  more  powerful  physically  than 
himself,  and,  curiously,  he  began  to  extract  some 
satisfaction  from  the  fact.  After  that  it  was  all 
over  for  Biddle.  When  he  went  back  to  bed  it 
was  with  the  conviction  that  the  very  best  thing 
he  could  do  was  to  ask  the  impossibly  named  Miss 
Vere  de  Vere  Belvawney,  who  had  once  been  a 
circus  acrobat,  to  marry  him  as  soon  as  she  con 
veniently  could. 

In  the  meantime  several  other  minds  were  simi 
larly  disturbed,  and  next  morning's  sun  rose  on  a 
feverish  household,  the  aching  half-hour  before 
breakfast  finding  Mrs.  Warder  innocently  cornered 
by  Altamont. 

At  the  moment  of  their  meeting  the  little  man 
was  moving  rapidly  along  a  path  beside  the  house, 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   289 

immersed  in  the  result  of  some  of  Mike's  re 
searches,  his  nimble  gait  embellished  by  a  little 
skip  that  interpolated  itself  with  all  the  independ 
ence  of  a  hiccough.  Altamont's  eyes  were  fixed 
on  an  unseen  point  in  the  ether  and  his  hair  was 
rampantly  unsubdued.  At  times,  he  stopped  to 
pull  at  a  refractory  garter  which,  in  turn,  caught 
up  his  trousers  under  its  strap  and  held  them 
there  high  above  his  shoe-tops.  Rising  from  one 
of  these  bendings  he  collided  violently  with  Mrs. 
Warder. 

"  Your  pardon,  Madam,"  the  little  man  said, 
with  a  recognizable  degree  of  manner.  "  I  had 
no  wish  to  obstruct  your  path  in  this  awkward 
fashion." 

"Eh?"  said  the  lady. 

"  I  say,  I'm  sorry  I  jiggled  off  your  glasses,"  he 
explained.  "  I  was  thinking  very  hard.  Fve  been 
thinking  about  it  all  night.  It  is  a  question  very 
full  of  meat." 

"  What  is?  "  asked  Mrs.  Warder  not  unkindly. 

"  PIGS !  "  said  Altamont,  with  calm  certainty. 

"  Why,  yes,"  said  she,  startled  into  thought. 
"So  they  are.  Very  full." 

He  looked  at  her  with  the  quick,  sidewise  flirt 
of  a  bird,  while  his  eyes  brightened  at  the  pros- 


290  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

pect  of  an  appreciative  listener.  He  hesitated,  then 
offered  his  crooked  arm  with  a  timid  though  re 
spectful  query  in  his  eye. 

The  lady  accepted  gladly.  That  is  to  say:  she 
had  heard  that  it  was  unwise  to  refuse.  You  must 
always  do  what  they  wished  until  you  could  escape. 
They  walked  along  the  path. 

"  The  producing  power  of  the  pig  is  perfectly 
preposterous,"  said  Altamont,  with  a  gentle  wave 
of  his  hand.  "  In  making  a  perfect  pen  picture  of 
porcine  proclivities " 

"In  or  with  a  pen?  "  asked  Mrs.  Warder,  with 
a  brilliant  but  artificial  smile. 

"  I  should  prefer  being  without  the  pen,"  was  the 
baffling  answer.  "  But,  as  I  was  saying,  it  is  pos 
sible  to  prophesy  without  postulatory  pardons  by 
reason  of  their  peculiar  posteritousness " 

"  Eh?  "  said  the  lady  again. 

"  I  am  speaking  of  their  particularly  powerful 
pork  providing  propensities,"  Altamont  an 
swered  gravely.  "  When  properly  provided  with 
peas " 

"  But  I  think  you  have,"  objected  the  lady  with 
a  careful  laugh.  "  Haven't  you?  I  mean — aren't 
you?" 

"Are   I?    I    should  say— have    I?    What?" 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   291 

Altamont  could  not  help  thinking  the  conversation 
somewhat  involved. 

"  P's,  of  course,"  said  Mrs.  Warder,  with  some 
distinctness.  "Lots  of  them.  I  never  heard  so 
many." 

"HEARD  THEM?"  quavered  the  little  man 
with  a  frightened  look.  "  Why — they're  perfectly 
noiseless,  I  think." 

Mrs.  Warder  wondered  nervously  if  Altamont's 
trouble  was  contagious. 

"  Do  you  mean  '  p's  '  or  '  peas  '  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  mean  '  peas,'  "  he  answered,  with  a  puz 
zled  frown.  "  That  is— I  think  I  do— don't  I? " 

"  But  how  are  your  '  peas'  spelt?  Of  course, 
you  know  that  much,"  she  asked,  seeing  that  she 
must  straighten  him  out  at  once. 

"  Why,  with  a  '  p,'  "  was  the  troubled  reply. 
"  How  would  you  spell  '  pea  '  ?  It's  just  the  ordi 
nary,  round  kind,  that's  in  '  pods.'  "  Altamont 
was  growing  a  trifle  mixed  himself. 

"  The  very  same  c  p  ' — round  or  with  a  tail  to 
it,"  Mrs.  Warder  said,  with  all  the  necessary 
firmness.  "  It  doesn't  look  a  bit  different,  no  mat 
ter  what  it's  in — unless  it's  a  German  '  p.'  '  She 
dropped  his  arm  and  prepared  for  flight. 

"  Ah — I  catch  your  meaning  at  last.    You  allude 


292  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

to  the  quality  or  nature  of  the  pea,"  he  said 
brightly,  with  a  detaining  finger  on  her  arm. 
"  Really,  Madam,  I  assure  you.  It's  all  one  to  a 
pig!  " 

"  And  to  me,"  said  the  lady  wittily,  and  seeing 
Amy  in  the  near  distance,  she  scuttled  away. 
"  For  Heaven's  sake,  protect  me,"  she  whis 
pered.  "  The  man  can  talk  of  absolutely  nothing 
this  morning  except  things  that  begin  with  *  p.' 
But  you  ought  to  have  seen  him  bow.  He  could 
n't  have  done  it  better  if  he'd  been  very  well- 
bred." 

"  Bread?"  asked  the  pursuing  Altamont,  seem 
ing  to  catch  only  the  last  word.  "  I  could  spell 
'  bread  '  with  a  *  p,'  too — if  I  could  only  get  in  the 
right  place." 

"  Where  could  that  be?"  Mrs.  Warder  asked 
with  a  significant  look  at  Amy. 

"  In  France,"  chuckled  Altamont,  and  having 
fully  demonstrated  the  low  cunning  of  the  insane, 
he  walked  quickly  away. 

"  I've  been  expecting  that  you'd  have  something 
to  tell  me,"  Amy  heard  her  relative  saying  pet 
tishly.  "  Don't  you  feel  as  if  it  were  nearly  time 
you  told  me?  " 

Amy  drew  back.     So  the  hunt  was  on  again! 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   293 

With  a  feeling  that  what  she  was  about  to  say  was, 
at  least,  essentially  true,  Amy  made  candid  reply. 

"  I  don't  feel  as  if  I  wanted  to  say  anything 
just  yet"  she  responded,  with  eyes  averted.  "  I 
am  waiting — waiting  for  a  message"  said  Amy 
impressively.  "  Do  you  think  I  ought  to  say  more 
than  that  just  now,  Aunt  Charlotte?  " 

"  Per — haps  not,"  was  the  puzzled  reply. 
"  And  yet — when  we're  all  here  together " 

Holly,  coming  in  to  breakfast  at  this  moment, 
received  a  lightning  telepathic  warning  from  Amy 
and  hurried  by,  much  to  Mrs.  Warder's  amaze 
ment 

"  It's  all  very  curious,  it  seems  to  me,"  that  lady 
murmured.  "  Why — he  actually  seemed  to  avoid 
you !  "  and  with  her  voice  fading  away  as  her 
perplexity  increased,  Mrs.  Warder  proceeded  in 
stinctively  in  the  direction  of  the  dining-room. 

But  the  Philadelphian  was  not  the  only  one  this 
morning  who  was  worried,  for  the  freezing  note 
in  Mrs.  Warder's  voice  was  promptly  noted  by 
the  ranchman.  To  make  matters  worse,  breakfast 
itself  was  unaccountably  delayed,  the  Strong 
Woman  appearing  distrait  and  silent. 

"  I  must  get  them  together,"  the  ranchman 
thought.  "We  can't  let  things  get  tightened  up 


294  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

this  way."  And  so  pondering  the  matter  of  his 
guests'  amusements  in  a  disturbed  mind  he  worked 
himself  into  a  partially  frenzied  state  from 
whence  emerged — an  idea!  But  the  brilliant 
solution  could  not  yet  be  disclosed,  and  an  hour 
after  breakfast  found  him  still  trying  it  out  before 
submitting  it  to  her  who  was  to  be  its  judge. 

That  person  had  taken  it  upon  herself  to  gather 
cooking  apples  in  the  orchard  for  Imogene,  and 
was  soon  seen  in  that  locality  by  the  watchful 
Biddle. 

Biddle  felt  himself  about  to  do  something  which 
he  weakly  wished  to  resist  but,  somehow,  was  un 
able  to  postpone,  for  he  knew,  subconsciously,  that 
it  would  be  a  perfectly  impossible  match.  He 
loved  and  yet  he  knew  good  reasons  why  he  should 
not  love — or,  rather,  why  he  should  not  have  al 
lowed  himself  to  go  so  far.  And  so,  although, 
the  main  impulse  kept  driving  him  ahead,  his  mind 
was  turbulent  with  cross-purposes.  It  is  doubtful, 
in  view  of  these  facts,  if  he  approached  the  dis 
creetly  withdrawing  Clarice  with  a  true  lover-like 
hunger  in  his  eye.  Instead  of  an  aspiring  step  and 
an  exalted  face,  Biddle's  jaw  was  unromantic  with 
honesty. 

"  I  want  to  talk  to  you,"  he  said,  standing  at  an 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   295 

elbow  in  whose  crook  the  apple-basket  was 
promptly  hung.  "  I  can't  stand  this  any  longer, 
Clarice?" 

"Yes?"  said  Clarice,  frowning  faintly. 

"  I  don't  know  exactly  how  to  begin,"  he  went 
on,  "  but  I  guess  you  know  how  I  feel  about  yes 
terday." 

"  Well,"  said  the  girl  slowly,  "  do  you  know, 
too,  how  /  feel  about  it?" 

"  I — I — I  suppose  you  do,"  he  answered  with 
difficulty,  but  failed  to  say  what  it  was  that  he 
supposed. 

"  I  don't  know  why  you  should  think  the  things 
of  me  that  apparently  you  have  thought,"  said 
Clarice,  "  but  I  hope  you  see  now  that  they're 
not  true." 

"  I  don't  know  why,  either,"  was  the  confes 
sion.  "  But  I  know  I  feel  a  great  deal  differently 
now.  I  want  to  apologize  to  you,  Clarice " 

"  Who  told  you  that  you  might  call  me  Cla 
rice?  "  she  asked  with  a  touch  of  impatience. 

"  Why — why,  nobody,"  said  Biddle,  and  paused. 
He  didn't  seem  to  be  getting  on  very  fast,  and 
began  to  feel  sick  and  upset. 

Miss  Belvawney  saw  a  promising  apple  on  the 
ground  some  distance  ahead  of  her  and  went  to 


296  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

pick  it  up.  Then  she  saw  another  still  farther  on. 
Biddle  followed  with  a  moody  face.  Clarice 
stopped  and  sighed  over  the  inevitable. 

"Well?"  said  she. 

"  I  guess  I'll  just  say  right  out  what  I  wanted  to 
say,"  Biddle  continued  heavily.  "  I've  been  a 
regular  pup  about  this  thing  and  I  guess  you  know 
it.  But  I  want  to  put  myself  right  in  your  eyes, 
and  more  than  that  I  want  to  say  that  I  like  you 
more  than  any  girl  I  ever  saw.  I  know  very  well 
I  didn't  feel  this  way  yesterday,  but  I  certainly 
do  now,  and  the  more  I  see  of  you  the  more  I  know 
that  I'd — well — I'd  like  to  have  you  for  my  wife, 
Miss  Belvawney.  You're  so  fine,  and  strong — 
and  everything — >and  I  admire  you — and — 

and I  tell  you  what,  Clarice,"  he  hurried  on, 

now  well  under  way,  "  I  do  want  you  terribly,  and 
that's  no  joke.  I  can't  keep  my  mind  off  you.  I 
think  about  you  the  whole,  livelong  time.  I  know 
this  is  a  queer  way  to  put  it,  but  I'll  go  down  on 
my  knees  to  you  if  you'll  think  it  over.  I  can  be  a 
pretty  decent  fellow  when  I  try,  and  I  think — I 
know  I  could  make  you  happy."  He  stopped  and 
sighed  dismally — for  some  unknown  reason. 

The  lady  also  sighed. 

"  I  think  you're  making  a  great  mistake,  Mr. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   297 

Warder,"  said  she.  "  I'm  very  grateful  to  you 
for  saying  all  these  nice  things,  but,  somehow,  I 
don't  believe  we'd  get  on  very  well  together — do 
you  really  think  we  would?  We  won't  say  any 
thing  more  about  yesterday,  because  I  believe  you 
are  sorry,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  you  could  find 
some  other  girl  who  would  suit  you  a  great  deal 
better " 

"  But  I  don't  think  so,"  he  interrupted,  posi 
tive  at  last.  "  I  love  you,  Clarice — and  I  want  you 
to  be  my  wife."  He  knew  her  well  enough  now 
not  to  make  any  misplays,  but  he  had  to  state 
what  was  unquestionably  true.  "  I've  got  a  lot 
of  money,  you  know,  and  I  could  make  your  life 
a  good  deal  different  from  what  it  is  now.  I  think 
you'd  do  splendidly  at  it " 

'  You  can  stop  right  there,"  the  girl  commanded, 
dropping  her  basket  and  facing  him  with  an  angry 
look.  "  That's  the  whole  trouble.  You  know  per 
fectly  well  that  I'm  not  the  sort  of  girl  your  other 
friends  are  and  you  admit  it  when  you  use  those 
words.  If  I  married  you  and  lived  in  Philadelphia 
somebody's  teeth  would  be  on  edge  all  the  time. 
Perhaps  I  could  learn  to  do  everything  they  do, 
but  they  would  always  know  where  I  came  from 
and  it  would  hurt  you  and  would  hurt  me.  That's 


298   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

one  very  good  reason,  and  the  other  reason  is  even 
stronger." 

"What  is  it?"  he  asked,  with  a  sick  feeling. 
u  Don't  you  think  you  could  like — could  love 
me?" 

"  No,"  she  said  honestly.  "  I  don't  believe  I 
ever  could." 

"  Well,  that's  pretty  bad  for  me,"  said  the  boy 
with  a  gulp.  u  I  thought  perhaps  you'd  give  me  a 
chance."  He  raised  his  eyes  and  studied  her  face 
intently.  "  I  guess  you  love  another  man." 

"  Oh,  no,"  stammered  Clarice,  and  turned  crim 
son  to  prove  the  truth  of  her  statement.  "No. 
You're  quite  mistaken.  But  I  must  go.  I  can't 
stay  here  any  longer." 

"  I  guess  I  see  it  all,"  said  Biddle  disgustedly. 
"  I  never  had  a  chance.  Well,  I'm  sorry,  Miss 
Belvawney.  I  guess  I'll  go,  too.  I'm  going  to 
take  a  long  walk  out  on  the  desert  somewhere." 
He  moved  away  a  step,  then  turned  a  weakly 
yearning  face.  u  I'd  give  you  everything  I  have 
in  the  world,  but  I  guess  you  wouldn't  take  it, 
would  you,  Clarice?  " 

"  No,"  Clarice  answered  promptly.  "  I'm 
sorry  to  hurt  your  feelings,  but  I  certainly  would 
not." 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   299 

"  Well,"  said  Biddle.  "  Well— good-by,"  and 
with  his  hands  deep  in  his  pockets  he  walked 
heavily  away. 

"  It  seems  to  me  there's  a  terrible  lot  of  frozen 
faces  around  camp  this  morning,"  the  Strong 
Woman  remarked  to  the  returning  Belvawney  as 
she  drew  hot  water  for  her  breakfast  dishes. 
"  Grandma  Rittenhouse  and  Amy  the  Flirt  are  on 
the  *  outs  '  about  something — the  old  gentleman's 
smoked  up  all  his  cigars — and  the  Biddler's  lost 
his  merry  twinkle  entirely.  That  must  have  been 
an  awful  ride  you  gave  him  yesterday." 

"  It  was  pretty  hot,  all  right,"  responded  the 
unperturbed  Belvawney,  sitting  up  on  the  kitchen- 
table  and  swinging  her  feet.  "  Can't  I  please 
make  apple  pies  with  you,  Boggsey  Dear?  I'd 
like  to  learn  to  cook." 

"  Cooks  don't  wear  silk  stockings  and  fancy 
shoes,"  Imogene  observed  pointedly.  "  Not  back 
in  Kansas,  anyway." 

"  My  onliest  pair,"  the  Belvawney  murmured 
dreamily,  and  stretched  out  her  slim  ankles.  "  I'm 
sure  I  don't  know  why  I  put  them  on  to-day." 

"  Oh,  just  because  you're  nutty  like  the  rest  of 
us.  But  why  this  haste  to  be  a  cook?  " 

"Well,  you  s-e-e-e,"  explained  Clarice,  draw- 


300  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

ing  a  finger  carefully  along  the  table-top.  "  Who 
knows  but  you  might  be  sick — or  blown  up  sud 
denly  in  your  mine — or  something — and  then 
where  would  we  be?" 

"  Yass,"  mocked  Imogene.  "  Ho-ho-ho  I  "  and 
she  burst  into  mighty  laughter.  "  I  guess  /  know 
why,  Miss  Smarty!  Oh,  ain't  you  cute — sitting 
there  so  meek,  a-looking  down  your  nose  like  a  wise 
little  rabbit?  '  I  want  to  learn  to  cook,'  says  she. 
1  Perhaps  I  might  have  a  home  of  my  own  some 
day.  Perhaps  I  might  fall  in  love,'  says  she.  4  Who 
knows  but  I  might  even  take  it  into  my  little  head 
to  get  married.'  Oh,  ho-ho-ho  !  "  Imogene's  sten 
torian  laughter  rang  far  down  the  hallway  after 
the  flying  girl. 

Very  pink  and  dewy-eyed  and  with  the  mild 
tortures  of  a  fear  that  someone  would  interrupt 
delicious  self-communion,  the  woman  of  the  cir 
cus  which  was  not,  nor  now  was  ever  to  have 
been,  sped  swiftly  from  the  house.  Elissus  and 
its  fields,  were  calling  from  their  safe  retreats. 
The  poignant  sweetness  of  unspoken  heart's  de 
sire  would  have  not  less  than  solitude  for  its  in 
effable  hour.  Something  was  singing  overhead 
as  she  went.  Something  tinkled  under  foot.  An 
alamo  turned  its  leaves  from  green  to  silver  and 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX   301 

back  to  glistening  green  again.  The  smell  of 
ripened  fruit  rose  in  a  wave  of  perfume  from  the 
sun-warmed  earth  and  seemed  like  an  overtone  in 
the  wordless  melody  that  all  surrounding  life  was 
singing.  Wandering  alone  with  her  happiness  by 
brook  and  meadow,  she  hugged  her  joy  to  herself 
and  dreamed  out  across  the  sun-bright  plain  with 
eyes  that  glistened  though  they  saw  not. 

Where  was  the  old  life  now?  Had  it  really 
ever  been?  What  had  blown  it  away?  And  who 
was  this  in  familiar  guise  of  face  and  supple  figure 
who  thought  strange  thoughts  of  Love  and  Con 
tentment  and  Growth?  She  laughed  aloud  and 
threw  out  her  arms  with  their  joyous,  inclutching 
gesture.  It  all  seemed  so  impossible — and  so 
blessed.  She  had  been  asleep  and  now  she  was 
awake.  Once  she  had  lived  in  a  dulled  world  of 
grays  and  monotones,  yet  here  were  all  the  royal 
colors  of  the  spectrum  glowing  before  her  eyes. 

And  so  she  wandered  for  her  hour,  out  of  sight 
among  the  trees,  but  with  the  house  at  no  time 
very  distant.  Coming  at  last  into  control  of  her 
thoughts  and  shameless  smilings,  she  turned  back 
to  face  the  sarcasms  of  the  Strong  Woman — with 
an  empty  basket. 

At  a  corner  of  the  orchard  she  stood  for  a  mo- 


302  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

ment  looking  across  the  fields  at  the  ranch-house. 
Imogene  presently  strode  forth  from  the  kitchen 
and  hurled  several  gallons  of  something  into  the 
air  with  great  velocity.  Clarice  laughed  and 
waved  her  hand,  whereat  the  Strong  Woman  re 
sponded  in  wondrous  gestures  with  the  dishpan. 
Then  something  humorous  seemed  to  occur  to  Mrs. 
Ajax  and  she  went  through  a  shameless  pantomime 
that  involved  much  sentimental  posing  and  silent 
laughter.  But  the  girl  had  caught  sight  of  another 
figure  and  her  eyes  shifted  to  where  a  tall  man 
with  a  chin  and  an  eye  and  a  down-drooping,  tawny 
mustache  leaned  indolently  against  the  corral  fence, 
immersed  in  conversation  with  the  two  acrobats. 

"  I've  hardly  said  a  word  to  him  since  yester 
day.  I  wonder  if  Imogene  hasn't  something  that 
she  wants  to  say  to  me.  I  think  I'd  better  go  and 
see  right  away,"  and  with  this  mild  mis-statement 
of  motives  the  new  shoes  went  twinkling  blithely 
down  the  path. 

But  as  the  woman  of  the  circus  walked  towards 
the  house,  something  which  protruded  from  a 
clump  of  bushes  and  high  grass  beside  the  path 
caught  her  eye. 

It  was  a  very  curious  thing  to  be  in  such  a  place 
and  position,  and  she  frowned  and  walked  slower. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  303 

A  man's  boot  was  projecting  into  the  path,  with 
its  toe  digging  into  the  ground  and  its  sole  upright 
and  facing  her.  Following  the  foot  farther  into 
the  grass,  she  saw  a  limb  and  another  foot.  As 
she  set  her  basket  down,  the  foot  moved. 

Something  tightened  around  the  woman's  heart. 
Flashing  a  look  towards  the  house  she  saw  it  all 
as  through  the  falling  shutter  of  a  camera — the 
clean-swept  yard,  the  pans  glittering  in  the  sun — 
a  dog  yawning  on  the  porch — Imogene  walking  to 
her  across  the  fields.  In  the  sudden  stillness  which 
seemed  to  fall  around  her  the  sounds  of  the  living, 
moving  things  across  the  pasture  lot  came  to  her 
with  a  curious  distinctness,  but  the  silence  of  the 
figure  in  the  covert  seemed  to  carry  a  presage 
less  of  life  than  of  that  dread  thing  which  fol 
lows  it. 

For  a  moment  the  woman  wondered  if  she  were 
dreaming.  Then  the  foot  moved  again  and  an 
inarticulate  sound  of  anger  came  to  her  ears.  She 
could  not  see  the  man's  face,  but  his  huddled 
shoulders  were  full  of  sinister  meaning.  As  she 
stared  over  the  crouching  head,  she  saw  he  was 
looking  at  the  corral. 

And  then  the  significance  of  the  screen,  and  the 
position  and  the  death-like  silence  came  home  to 


304  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

her.  Who  the  man  was  or  what  his  reasons  might 
be  were  of  no  importance  in  this  hideous  moment, 
for  something  whose  octagonal  barrel  gleamed 
dully  as  it  wavered  slightly  from  side  to  side, 
thrust  everything  out  of  her  mind  except  the  fact 
that  while  the  man  at  the  corral  amused  the  other 
two  with  his  good-natured  jokes,  Death  hovered 
over  him  with  brushing  wings. 

There  may  be  infinite  periods  of  time  which,  to 
the  gods,  pass  as  but  moments,  but  there  are,  of 
a  certainty,  some  moments  for  mortals  which  seem 
eternities.  To  her  who  now  grasped  the  meaning 
of  it  all  it  seemed  as  if  an  aeon  passed  before  she 
could  break  free  from  the  nightmare  that  was 
numbing  her.  And  then — with  only  a  gasping  cry 
wrung  from  her  by  her  plunge — the  woman  of  the 
circus  threw  herself  through  the  air  as  one  dives 
into  water,  and  fell  in  a  fighting,  grappling  heap 
across  the  unknown's  shoulders. 

With  the  rifle  flung  from  his  hands  the  man 
gave  a  groan  of  pain;  then  twisted  himself  about 
to  strike  at  his  antagonist.  But  what  feeble  blows 
he  could  deliver  were  almost  childish  compared  to 
the  splendid  strength  which  wrenched  his  hands 
loose  and  ground  head  and  shoulders  down  into 
the  earth  under  her  knee.  There  was  no  longer 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  305 

need  to  wonder  who  he  was.  A  mere  glimpse  of 
the  snarling  face,  half  hidden  in  the  dirt,  half 
strangled  by  her  grip,  gave  the  reason  for  it  all. 
It  was  Macklin. 

If  there  had  been  time  to  look  up  in  the  midst 
of  the  struggle,  the  girl  would  have  seen  two 
things,  the  first  being  that  Dick  Holly  had  gone 
into  the  house  without  noticing  the  disturbance, 
and  the  second,  that  Imogene  was  coming  to  her 
across  the  pasture-lot  with  incredible  speed.  But 
if  the  Strong  Woman  imagined  there  was  need  of 
assistance  in  the  astounding  struggle  which  had 
caught  her  eye  she  was  mistaken,  for  the  girl  had 
pinioned  the  man's  limbs  with  her  own  and  was 
holding  him  in  a  vise-like  grip  from  which  there 
could  be  no  escape.  Even  the  pressure  on  his 
throat  was  not  relaxed  as  the  seconds  passed  and 
his  eyes  began  to  start  glassily  out  of  a  blackening 
face. 

Then  a  hand  worked  itself  free  and  tore  hope 
lessly  at  her  wrist. 

"Oh,  hoh! — you  would — would  you?"  the 
woman  muttered  deep  in  her  throat.  A  sardonic 
smile  parted  her  lips  and  she  watched  the  fingers 
close  on  her  arm  in  a  feeble,  useless  pull.  They 
were  rather  long  fingers,  unbelievably  dirty  and 


306  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

badly  gnarled,  and  in  the  fraction  of  time  while 
they  closed  on  her  she  felt  a  vivid  sensation  of  dis 
gust.  Yet,  as  she  continued  to  look  at  the  fingers, 
her  own  seemed  to  grow  weaker.  Little  by  little 
her  grip  began  to  relax — little  by  little  she  took  the 
pressure  from  his  throat.  Something  was  glitter 
ing  on  the  hand  that  plucked  at  her  wrist,  and  as 
her  eyes  stared  at  it  a  thought  more  hideous  than 
all  the  rest  went  through  her  and  turned  her  mus 
cles  into  ropes  of  sand. 

Imogene  was  not  far  away  now,  filling  the  air 
with  wild  cries  and  charging  furiously  through  the 
brush  like  an  angry  rhinoceros,  but  when  she 
burst  upon  the  scene  the  struggle  had  been  won — 
and  lost  again.  The  man  had  half  risen  to  his  feet 
while  the  girl,  with  a  hand  thrust  out  before  her 
face,  was  shrinking  back  as  if  from  Death  himself. 
With  the  promptness  which  never  entirely  deserted 
her  the  Strong  Woman  first  snatched  up  the  rifle 
and  then  struck  out  with  a  heavy  hand  and  sent 
the  man  sprawling  at  her  feet. 

"  What  in  the  world's  going  on  here?"  she 
cried,  holding  her  captive  down  with  one  hand. 
"  Who's  he  trying  to  shoot  bullets  at?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  the  girl  shuddered,  turning  as 
if  to  run  away.  "  I  stopped  him,  anyway."  She 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  307 

caught  her  breath  with  a  gasp  and  tottered  back 
wards. 

"  Stop  that,  Clarice !  "  snapped  Imogene 
harshly.  "  Don't  you  dare  faint !  What  do  you 
mean  by  catching  this  fellow  and  then  letting  him 
go  again?" 

The  body  under  her  squirmed  around  as  she 
spoke,  and  the  man's  eyes  began  to  flicker  from 
one  face  to  the  other.  His  mouth  was  too  full 
of  dirt  for  speech,  but  his  sense  of  hearing  had  not 
been  impaired. 

The  girl  shielded  her  eyes  from  the  sight. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  said  again  in  a  strangled 
voice.  "  Get  up,  Imogene.  Let  him  go." 

"  I'll  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  retorted  the 
Strong  Woman.  "  It  seems  terrible  funny  you 
catched  him  and  beat  him  nearly  to  death  just  to 
let  him  go " 

The  girl  turned  back  with  a  half-crazed  look  on 
her  face  which  frightened  the  other  woman. 

"LET  HIM  GO!"  she  cried,  clutching  at 
Imogene's  arm.  "  I've  got  my  reason !  " 

"  I  think  you've  lost  your  reason,"  was  the  angry 
reply. 

Then  the  man  on  the  ground  managed  to  clear 
his  mouth  and  gutter  forth  some  words. 


308  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

"  Get  up  offn  me,  y'u,"  he  rasped.  u  Don't 
y'u  see  she  knows  me?  That's  Winnie.  THAT'S 
MY  DAUGHTER!" 

The  words  rang  strangely  in  the  Strong  Wom 
an's  ears.  Looking  up  at  the  girl,  she  saw  her 
shrink  back  with  loathing  in  her  eyes.  Then  the 
Strong  Woman  rose  from  off  the  prostrate  form 
and  gave  it  a  hearty  kick. 

"  Get  up,  then,"  she  said,  dragging  him  into 
an  upright  position  with  the  gentle  grip  of  a 
grizzly  bear.  "  Let's  take  a  look." 

"  Don't  y'u  pester  me,"  the  man  whined.  "  Win 
nie!  Don't  y'u  let  this  crazy  woman " 

"  CLARICE  !  "  commanded  Imogene.  "  Come 
here  and  look  at  this  fellow."  Do  you  mean  to 
say  that  this  dirty  old  pup " 

;'  Take  a  look  at  it !  "  the  man  interrupted,  and 
thrust  a  grimy  ring-finger  under  Imogene's  dis 
gusted  nose. 

Imogene  looked.  Then  she  dropped  his  arm 
and  gripped  the  rifle  in  both  hands. 

"  I'll  give  you  just  exactly  one  minute  to  get 
off  this  property  into  Hell,"  said  the  Strong 
Woman.  "  You're  no  father  of  this  girl  and  you 
never  will  be.  And  you  ain't  goin'  to  stick  around 
here  making  us  poor  women  cry  or  shooting  things 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  309 

with  bullets,  either.  There's  the  road  to  Moab 
and  you're  going  to  take  it  on  the  run.  Now, — 
you — GIT!"  And  with  a  heavy  swing  of  the 
clubbed  rifle  across  his  back,  she  sent  the  unknown 
plunging  for  his  life  across  the  fields. 

The  Lifter  of  Great  Weights  turned  to  the  girl, 
lying  face  downwards  on  the  grass,  and  surveyed 
her  with  withering  scorn.  To  be  entirely  truthful, 
this  promised  to  be  a  heavier  weight  to  lift  than 
any  dumb-bell  the  Strong  Woman  had  ever  es 
sayed,  but  it  was  going  to  be  accomplished,  just 
the  same. 

"  Clarice,"  said  she,  "  you  certainly  get  my  goat. 
How,  in  the  name  of  Time,  you  can  recognize  a 
father  you  never  saw  before  beats  me  all 
around  the  block.  I  guess  you're  losing  your 
mind." 

"  I  hope  I  am,"  sobbed  the  girl. 

"  Yes,  I  hope  so,  too,"  was  the  comforting 
echo.  "  Sit  up  here,  now,  and  answer  me  criss 
cross  your  heart.  Did  Papa  show  you  the  Family 
Album  while  you  were  fighting?" 

"  Let  me  alone!  "  was  the  protesting  moan. 

"  Thanking  you  very  kindly — I  won't,"  said 
Imogene.  "  I'm  entirely  too  interested.  I  gotta 
know  if  it  was  because  he  has  green  eyes  that  you 


310  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

were  so  glad  to  recognize  him  or  because  there's 
a  strawberry  mark  in  the  middle  of  his  back." 

"  It — it  was  a  ring/'  the  girl  muttered,  blindly 
thrusting  out  her  hand.     "  It's  just  the  same  as 


mine." 


uAh!  Yess-s-s-s-s !  "  was  the  politely  sibilant 
response.  UA  dear  little  ten-cent  ring  that  he 
picked  up  in  a  pawnshop  once  when  he  was  flush, 
I  reckon.  And  you're  so  tickled  to  death  to  have 
a  father  that  you'd  take  him  all  on  the  strength 
of  a  little  piece  of  brass  that  anyone  could  own. 
Hurry  up  now  and  get  done  with  your  crying,  be 
cause  I  want  to  tell  you  what  I  think  of  your 
taste  in  fathers.  I  must  say  that  I'm  pretty  much 
ashamed  of  you,  young  lady.  After  all  your 
traveling  'round  looking  at  papas,  I  think  you 
made  a  mighty  bum  choice." 

The  girl's  face  came  into  view  and  she  looked 
up  at  the  other  with  clearer  eyes. 

11 1  wish  I  could  believe  you,  Imogene,"  she 
said  mournfully. 

"  Clarice,"  said  Imogene  quietly,  as  she  sat 
down  by  the  girl  and  hugged  her  up  in  her  arms, 
"  there's  nothing  to  it.  I  just  said  those  things  to 
get  you  angry  and  calmed  down.  Believe  me,  my 
dear — there  isn't  a  word  of  truth  either  in  what  he 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  311 

said  or  you  believe.  I  advise  you  to  put  this  thing 
out  of  your  mind  as  an  absolute  impossibility. 
Don't  ever  speak  to  me  again  about  it,  or  to  your 
self,  or  to  anyone  else.  When  I  think  it's  neces 
sary  for  you  to  have  a  father,  /'//  give  you  one" 
said  Imogene. 

She  studied  the  girl  for  a  moment,  then  con 
tinued  her  reflections  in  a  more  intimate  tone. 
"  I  don't  see  why  you're  so  terrible  set  on  having 
a  father,  anyway,"  said  Imogene.  "  It  seems  to 
me  I'd  rather  have  a  husband  any  day." 

The  face  was  promptly  hidden  again  and  there 
was  a  mournful  sigh.  "  Impossible,"  said  a  voice. 

"  Nonsense,"  said  the  Strong  Woman  definitely. 
"  Get  up  now  and  rub  your  cheeks.  Mr.  Holly's 
been  crazy  to  find  you  for  a  half  an  hour.  He's 
hunting  all  over  for  you." 

Somewhat  comforted  but  with  lowered,  unsee 
ing  eyes,  the  girl  finally  came  to  the  house,  de 
voutly  praying  for  a  free  passage  to  her  room. 
But,  as  Fate  intended,  they  met  in  the  hallway, 
and  before  she  could  escape  he  threw  open  the 
office-door. 

"  I've  got  a  scheme !  Come  see  it  unroll !  "  he 
said  boyishly,  and  in  spite  of  her  torture  she  fol 
lowed  in. 


312   THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

"  I  don't  see  why  I  didn't  break  into  this  be 
fore  !  "  he  said.  "  Everything's  topsy-turvy  here 
— you  saw  that  to-day — and  I've  been  racking  my 
brains  for  something  to  amuse  these  people  till 
it's  time  for  them  to  go.  So  I've  figured  out  that 
what  we  need  here  is  a  Dance !  "  He  waited  for 
her  faint  smile,  then  hurried  on. 

"  It  won't  be  hard,"  he  said.  "  I've  been  look 
ing  at  Drybone's  new  barn  and  it's  just  the  thing ! 
And  we  can  get  an  awful  crowd.  All  Moab'll 
come — they're  crazy  about  such  things.  And  the 
young  engineer!  And  the  assayer  from  Yellow 
Dog !  And  folks  from  Tuniper !  And  Ash  Flat ! 
And  Lonesome  Dove!  Why — there  won't  be 
room  for  half !  Only  the  Bishop — we'll  leave  him 
out.  And  that's  the  first  part.  Now,  the  second 
part  will  be  a  supper.  After  that  will  come — 
THE  PERFORMANCE ! " 

"The  what?" 

:<  The  performance!  "  he  repeated,  astonished. 
"Why— we  couldn't  do  without  that!  They'd 
have  the  time  of  their  lives !  Just  think  of  all  we 
can  do  for  them.  Mike  and  Harry  and  Imogene 
and  Cobrita " 

His    words    rang   strangely   in    her    ears.      A 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  313 

troublous  presentiment  began  to  lie  heavy  on  her 
heart. 

"  Do  you  mean  you're  going  to  have  them  in 
their  acts?"  she  said. 

"  Why,  of  course,"  he  answered  hastily.  "  Just 
see  what  a  lot  there'd  be  to  do.  Bareback  riding 
— and  tumbling — and  Imogene  lifting  heavy 
weights — and  Cobrita's  dogs  doing  tricks — Alta- 
mont  dressed  up  in  a  turban  playing  his  flute — the 
Wild  Man  riding  the  elephant  'round  and  'round 
and  the  snakes  loose  in  the  audience,  scaring  the 
women " 

"  And — you — want — me — to — help  ?  "  she  asked 
slowly,  mechanically. 

"  I  wish  you  would"  he  said  with  blind  hopeful 
ness.  "  You  haven't  done  anything  like  that  in  a 
long  time,  have  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  she  answered.  "  No.  Not  in  a  long 
time,"  and  a  fiery  blush  spread  over  her  neck  and 
face.  She  drew  back  and  turned  away.  A  revul 
sion  took  possession  of  her  and  froze  her  into 
white  silence.  She  walked  a  few  steps  towards  the 
door,  her  hands  clenched  at  her  sides.  Her  heart, 
which  had  given  one  stricken  leap  as  she  caught  his 
meaning,  was  beating  slowly  and  laboriously. 

And  this  was  what  it  all  had  come  to!    All  her 


3i4  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

efforts  to  rehabilitate  herself — all  her  attempts  to 
shake  off  the  ugly  old  chrysalis  and  flutter  forth, 
bright  and  shining,  into  what  had  seemed  a  beauti 
ful,  new  world.  Only  a  few  days  ago  she  had 
thought  she  was  succeeding,  but  now,  it  seemed  as 
if  a  mistake  had  been  made  somewhere.  If  she 
had  deceived  herself  into  thinking  the  butterfly's 
original  state  forgotten,  it  was  being  impressed  on 
her  with  rude  strength  that  other  people  had  not 
yet  gone  that  far. 

The  girl  walked  unsteadily  away  and  sank  down 
on  a  chair,  her  little  world  in  chaos.  One  there 
had  been  who  seemed  to  understand.  One  there 
had  been  who  always  stood  by  and  smiled  good- 
naturedly,  comprehendingly — with  a  word,  or  a 
gift,  or  a  frank  desire  for  companionship  which 
was  better  than  any  gift.  And,  just  as  Fate  would 
have  it,  this  was  the  one  who  had  deliberately 
come  and  struck  the  hardest  blow.  She  lowered 
her  head  on  her  arms  and  broke  into  a  shudder  of 
tears. 

The  man  started  as  if  he  had  been  shot  His 
face  grew  frightened.  He  came  nearer,  wonder 
ing  and  perplexed,  his  hand  stretched  out  in  pro 
test. 

"  Why — Clarice !  "    he    cried    in    amazement. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  315 

"What  have  I  done?  What  ki  the  world  is  the 
trouble?  Why,  I  don't  understand  this!"  he 
said  despairingly.  "  I've  done  something,  and  I 
don't  know  what  it  is.  Please ,  don't  cry !  My 
heavens!"  he  groaned  to  himself.  ''What's  go 
ing  on  here?  You  hurt  that  little  girl?  I'd  kill 
you  first.  Clarice ! "  he  called,  and  laid  a  trem 
bling  hand  on  her  arm.  "  Please,  don't  cry,  little 
girl.  I  only  asked  you  to  help!  " 

"  I  know,"  she  sobbed.  "  And  that's  the  worst 
of  it.  You  asked  me — you  asked  me — oh — oh," 
she  shuddered,  and  gave  it  up.  "  I  want  to  help 
you — but  I  can't — I  can't!  " 

He  stared  miserably  down  at  her,  appalled  at  the 
sight  of  her  grief  and  yet  uncertain  as  to  what  to 
do  or  think.  His  hands  hovered  over,  hungering 
unbelievably  to  sweep  her  up  into  his  arms.  Then 
they  dropped  at  his  sides,  and  he  retreated. 

"  I  don't  know  what  I've  done,"  he  faltered. 
"  But  I  guess  it's  something  that  doesn't  make  you 
want  to  see  me  any  more.  I'll  go  right  out — 
right  away."  And  he  strode  quickly  from  the 
room. 

A  moment  later  Imogene,  looking  up  from  the 
last  relics  of  breakfast,  beheld  a  strange  sight  in 
the  kitchen  doorway.  The  owner  of  the  ranch 


316  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

was  stumbling  in  on  her  with  staring  eyes  and 
wildly  waving  arms. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  go  see  what's  the  matter 
with  Clarice !  "  he  burst  out.  "  She's  crying  as 
hard  as  she  can.  Something  terrible  must  have 
happened.  My  God — if  I've  said  anything  to  hurt 
her  feelings " 

"  What  have  you  been  saying  to  that  little 
girl?"  demanded  Imogene  ferociously,  drying  her 
hands  on  her  apron  and  coming  on  the  run. 

"  It  was  about  the  performance!  "  he  said  hus 
kily.  "  I  asked  her  to  help,  but  she  can't.  Says  she 
wants  to,  but  she  can't!  And  then  she  burst  right 
out  crying." 

Imogene  halted  abruptly.  A  light  flashed  across 
her  face  and  she  had  hard  work  to  stifle  her 
laughter. 

"  Did  you  ask  her  to  perform  for  you  ?  "  she 
barked  with  well-feigned  anger. 

"  Why,  no!  "  wailed  the  helpless  one.  "  I  only 
asked  her  to  help.  I  didn't  ask  her  to  do  any  of 
her  act — I  didn't  think  of  it — I  never  have.  It 
never  seemed  to  me  as  if  she  belonged  to  the  cir 
cus  like  the  rest — the  thought  never  occurred  to 
me.  If  I'd  thought  she  cared  that  much  about  it 
I'd  have  asked  her,  too." 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  317 

Then  a  thought  flashed  through  his  agitated 
mind.  He  stopped.  His  eyes  brightened.  He 
threw  up  his  hands  with  a  comic  gesture  of  dis 
gust. 

"  /  know,"  he  shouted.  "  What  a  great  big  fool 
I  was.  She  wants  to  help,  but  she  can't.  She  hasn't 
got  any  tights!  " 

"TIGHTS!  "  yelled  Imogene,  frantically  back 
ing  him  up  against  the  door  and  pinning  him  fast 
with  her  mighty  hands.  "  See  here — you  great  big 
chump !  Did  you  say  anything  like  that  to  that 
child  ?" 

11  NO !  "  he  burst  forth.  "  Of  course  I  didn't. 
I  never  thought  of  it.  That's  what  she's  mad 
about." 

u  IDIOT !  "  gasped  Imogene,  shaking  him  with 
might  and  main.  "  If  you  say  '  tights  '  to  that  lit 
tle  girl  you'll  kill  her!  Of  course  she  hasn't  any. 
She  burned  'em  up  long  ago — right  here  in  my 
stove — with  my  own  eyes  watching  her.  Don't 
you  know  what's  the  matter  with  her?  Haven't 
you  any  eyes?  Can't  you  see?  She's  crazy  to  have 
you  think  she's  a  better  kind  of  a  girl  than  an  acro 
bat!  Wake  up,  man!  She  loves  you!" 

He  strained  against  her  arms. 

"  Imogene!  You're  crazy!  " 


318  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

"No.  I'm  not  crazy!"  shouted  the  Strong 
Woman;  "but  I'll  be  mad  enough  to  pound  you 
in  another  minute.  Now  answer  me  straight  and 
true.  You  didn't  say  anything  about  trapezes — or 
tights — or  anything?  " 

"  No.  Not  a  word,"  he  howled,  frantic  with 
shame  over  his  awful  error. 

"HURRAH!"  cried  Imogene,  backing  away 
to  give  him  room  for  action.  "  Now — get  out  of 
here!  RUN!  JUMP!  GIT!  CLEAR  OUT! 
Go  to  her  just  as  fast  as  Heaven  will  let  you.  Get 
down  on  your  knees  and  pray  to  God  to  make  her 
forgive  you  for  not  staying  there  in  the  first  place. 
IF  YOU  DON'T  ASK  HER  TO  MARRY 
YOU  IN  TWO  MINUTES  BY  THE  CLOCK, 
I'LL  BREAK  YOUR  NECK." 

"  Imogene,"  he  faltered  piteously,  "  you  would 
n't  fool  me?" 

"  GET  OUT  OF  HERE,"  said  Imogene  vio 
lently,  and  catapulted  him  down  the  hallway. 
"  You  men  make  me  tired.  I'd  like  to  throw  you 
out  of  my  house !  " 

He  paused  to  ask  one  more  timid  question,  but 
saw  it  would  be  futile.  The  door  slammed  in  his 
face. 

He  stared  wildly  about  with  convulsive  move- 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  319 

ments,  and  took  a  deep  breath.  Then  he  turned 
and  ran  madly  down  the  hall. 

Out  in  the  kitchen  the  Strong  Woman,  true  to 
her  threat,  kept  a  watchful  eye  on  the  clock.  The 
fateful  two  minutes  passed,  and  anon,  another  two. 
With  five  long  minutes  safely  folded  to  the  bosom 
of  the  past,  a  soft  radiance  spread  its  glow  across 
Imogene's  moon-like  countenance.  Her  body  be 
gan  to  sway  rhythmically  from  side  to  side,  and  a 
humming  sound  of  wondrous  volume  filled  the 
kitchen.  With  skirt  nipped  daintily  twixt  thumb 
and  finger,  her  feet  began  to  glide  about  in  an  old- 
fashioned  dance-step,  while  strange  fragments  not 
unlike  "  The  Beautiful  Blue  Danube  "  assaulted 
the  air.  "  Tra-la-la-la.  Ki-yi!  Ki-yi !  "  paeaned 
Imogene,  and  spun  like  a  whirling  dervish.  In  and 
out  between  stove  and  table,  with  only  her  pots  and 
pans  for  audience,  the  Lifter  of  Great  Weights 
was  violently  waltzing  out  her  joy  all  by  her 
self. 

Intruding  delicately  upon  these  strange  exercises, 
the  Wild  Man  from  Java  was  presently  felt  to  be 
near  at  hand.  Not  unaverse  to  being  considered 
graceful  in  her  old  age,  Imogene  kept  up  an  arti 
ficial  unconsciousness  among  her  pirouettes  until 
stopped  by  a  suggestion  from  the  Wild  Man. 


320  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

"  S-s-s-s-s-s-t !  "  said  the  Wild  Man  forcibly. 
"  Cut  that  out.  She's  a-coming!" 

"  Who's  a-coming  ?"  demanded  the  joyful  one. 

"  Grandma, "  answered  the  Wild  Man,  with 
knowing  succinctness,  and  vanished  away. 

"  I  thought  I'd  come  around  for  a  little  visit," 
Mrs.  Warder  said  genially,  as  she  stood  on  the 
doorstep.  "  I  hope  you're  not  too  busy." 

"  Not  at  all,"  Imogene  answered  preoccupiedly, 
and  finally  looked  up  from  where  she  sat  at  her 
kitchen-table.  The  table-drawer  stood  open  and 
numerous  documents  were  scattered  about.  In  her 
hand  she  held  a  square,  blue  sheet  headed,  "  Ameri 
can  Smelting  and  Refining  Company." 

"  Come  right  in,"  the  Strong  Woman  said.  "  I 
don't  mind  telling  you  that  I  have  been  real  busy, 
but  it's  mostly  done  now.  I've  been  making  up 
accounts  on  my  mine  and  sort  of  looking  things 
over.  Sometimes  I  think  it's  most  too  big  a  thing 
for  a  poor  weak  woman  like  me  to  tackle." 

Imogene  thrust  the  papers  to  one  side  with  a 
weary  movement  and  leaned  her  head  pensively  on 
her  hand.  "  Of  course,  it's  awful  nice  to  get  gold 
out  of,"  she  said,  "  but  the  worry  of  bossing  those 
men  is  something  terrible.  If  it  wasn't  that  I've 
got  a  good  thing  close  by  I  believe — I  believe " 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  321 

Imogene's  voice  faded  gently  away,  leaving  her  be 
liefs  still  in  the  shadow. 

"  You  say  you've  taken  some  gold  out  of  it  al 
ready?**  Mrs.  Warder  asked,  speaking  in  a  re- 
flectful  tone  and  sitting  down  as  if  she  meant  to 
stay. 

"  Yep,"  said  Imogene  with  a  yawn.  ;t  Want  to 
see  some  of  the  returns?  There's  Shipment  Num 
ber  Three  Hundred  and  Fifteen  B." 

Mrs.  Warder  put  on  her  glasses  and  breathed 
heavily  over  the  report. 

"  I  believe  I'll  get  busy  and  buy  me  a  couple  of 
new  silk  dresses,"  remarked  Imogene  dreamily. 
"  I  might  have  to  run  down  to  San  Francisco 
shortly  on  some  matters  connected  with  this  prop 
erty  and " 

"  One  hundred  and  sixty-five  dollars — I  under 
stand  that  much  of  it,  anyway,"  the  Philadelphian 
said  with  a  shrewd  light  in  her  eye.  "  Did  you 
make  a  hundred  and  sixty-five  dollars?  " 

"  Yeh-up.  But  about  those  dresses — I  don't 
know  just  where  to  have  'em  made  up.  Ain't  there 
some  good  dressmakers  in  Philadelphia  who  could 
give  me  a  fit?  I  know  I'm  dreadful  partickeler, 
but " 

Mrs.  Warder  laid  the  sheet  down  and  surveyed 


322  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

the  other  calculatively.  "Eh?"  she  murmured. 
"  Oh,  dresses.  Why,  yes — to  be  sure.  But  sup 
pose  you  tell  me  something  more  about  the 


mine." 


"  Oh— the  mine?  Well— it's  all  there,"  said 
Imogene.  "  It's  a  nice  mine,  too." 

"You're  sure  it's  a  nice  little  mine?"  queried 
the  other  carefully.  "  You  think  there's  money  in 
it,  do  you?" 

u  I  know  there's  money  in  it,"  the  Strong 
Woman  stated  fearlessly.  "  You  never  saw  a  mine 
yet  as  big  as  that  one  but  it  had  money  in  it — 
somewhere.  Sure  it's  a  nice  mine.  Didn't  I  dig 
the  ore  out  of  the  vein  and  wash  the  gold  out  for 
you?  You  didn't  lose  the  little  bag  or  tell  any 
body,  did  you?" 

"  Oh,  no.  I've  got  it  all  locked  up,"  and  Mrs. 
Warder  fidgeted  with  her  porte-monnaie.  "  If  I 
were  only  sure''  she  whispered  to  herself. 

"  As  I  was  saying — about  those  dresses,"  re 
marked  Imogene.  "  This  trip  to  the  city  would 
come  in  mighty  handy  for  that.  I've  been  expect 
ing  to  make  arrangements  regarding  this  little 
mine  with  a  certain  party  for  some  time  past,  but 
on  the  other  hand,  if  you  really  want  to  have  the 
first  chance  at  picking  up  a  bargain "  The 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  323 

Strong  Woman  sat  back  and  drummed  thought 
fully  on  the  table. 

"  Hummmm,"  she  said  with  a  heavy  frown. 
"  Well,  now.  I  tell  you  what.  I  like  you  a  whole 
lot  for  coming  to  me  with  this  idea  and,  maybe, 
if  you  want  to  talk  business,  let's  us  figure  out  just 
what  we  can  do.  Let's  get  down  to  real  business." 

"  Yes,  yes.  We  must  make  this  real  business" 
was  the  fidgety  reply,  and  Mrs.  Warder  hitched 
her  chair  closer  and  brought  the  porte-monnaie 
into  view.  "  That's  just  what  I've  been  thinking 
about  all  night  long,  dear  Mrs.  Boggs.  I  didn't 
know  how  you'd  feel  about  it — Dear.  You  don't 
mind  if  I  call  you  '  Dear.'  " 

"  I  hope  I  will  be  dear,"  purred  Imogene. 
"  Now,  how  much  money  do  you  really  think  you 
could » 

It  is  regrettable  that  the  remainder  of  this  con 
versation,  being  of  a  strictly  business  nature,  can 
not  be  disclosed.  All  that  is  known  concerning  it 
proves  that  it  was  carried  on  in  low  tones,  and 
not  even  the  discreet  Wild  Man,  lurking  around 
the  doorway,  could  detect  more  than  a  faint  mur 
mur.  But  the  Wild  Man  soon  made  his  own  de 
ductions,  for  when  Warder  senior,  casting  about 
for  his  wife,  approached  too  close  to  Imogene's 


324  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

stronghold,  the  Wild  Man,  oh,  wonder  of  won 
ders!  shook  his  head  and  pointed  in  the  other 
direction. 

Mr.  Warder  thought  of  the  office  and  concluded 
that  he  would  proceed  thither.  The  door  was 
shut.  But  unless  a  door  is  locked  as  well  as  shut 
it  may  often  be  opened  by  turning  the  knob  and 
pushing  vigorously  until  the  weight  sometimes 
found  to  be  leaning  against  it 

"  Why,  bless  my  soul!"  gasped  Mr.  Warder. 
He  took  a  short  moment  in  which  to  assure  himself 
that  it  was  not  an  optical  illusion,  and  then  as 
saulted  his  partner.  "  You  old  scamp !  Have 
you  been  in  love  all  this  time  and  never  told 
me?" 

He  held  the  incoherent  two  fast  and  grew  red 
with  laughter.  "  There,  now,  Clarice — I'll  let 
you  go — but  I've  had  the  very  last  squeeze  you  can 
ever  give  away." 

"  You  were  looking  for  me?"  asked  Holly. 

u  Yes.  I  have  a  wire  here  from  San  Fran 
cisco.  I  promised  to  meet  a  man  there  who's  com 
ing  up  from  Mexico,  and  he's  caught  a  steamer  a 
week  ahead  of  time.  Can  you  get  us  off  right 
now?  "  Warder's  hand  was  on  the  knob  and  he 
was  turning  away. 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  325 

As  he  did  so  there  came  a  sound  of  steps  and 
tinkling  spurs  in  the  hallway.  Someone  rapped 
and  then  opened  the  door.  A  man  whom  none  but 
the  ranchman  knew  stood  on  the  threshold. 

At  sight  of  a  woman,  the  stranger  removed  his 
hat,  but  without  further  greeting  than  a  nod  to 
the  man  who  had  despatched  him  on  his  quest  two 
weeks  before,  the  drill-runner  proceeded  to  make 
his  report. 

"  I've  been  looking  up  this  man  Macklin  as 
you  told  me  to  do,"  said  the  drill-runner  with  a 
calm  eye,  "  and  I  reckon  youVe  wasted  your  money, 
Boss.  He  hasn't  left  any  more  trail  than  a  fly 
on  a  rock.  Howsomever,  he's  ketched  all  right — 
Jake  Johnson  put  the  nippers  on  him  down  on  the 
Moab  road  not  ten  minutes  ago." 

Holly  nodded  silently,  as  if  he  were  not  surprised 
to  find  that  the  man  had  survived,  after  all.  He 
glanced  quickly  at  the  girl  beside  him  for  the  look 
of  relief  which  he  felt  sure  would  show  in  her 
face,  and  so  looking,  saw  a  curious  change  take 
place. 

"  But  while  I  was  checking  up  Macklin,"  the 
drill-runner  continued,  u  I  found  out  a  funny  thing 
about  Danny  Drew  that  we  never  knew  before. 
Maybe  you'd  like  to  know  about  it.  This  yere 


326  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

Drew  man's  name  wasn't  '  Drew '  at  all,"  said  the 
drill-runner.  "  'Twas  Henry  B alders  on  !" 

There  was  a  little  pause  after  the  drill-runner 
ceased  speaking,  and  then  the  woman's  eyes  began 
to  light  up  with  astonishment.  Wider  and  wider 
they  opened,  and  she  stepped  back  with  an  exclama 
tion.  Some  wonderful  hope  was  shining  in  her 
face  and  crystallizing  behind  her  eyes.  Doubts 
were  being  swept  away  and  misconceptions  put  un 
der  foot  forever.  The  certainty  of  Truth  was 
filling  her  with  a  force  which  flashed  an  under 
standing  into  Dick  Holly's  mind  long  before  she 
spoke.  The  worst  had  been  for  Clarice,  and  it 
would  never  come  again.  The  best  was  here 
now. 

"  Why — that's  my  name !  "  the  girl  whispered. 
"  I'm  Winnie  Balderson!  " 

Ten  minutes  later  the  tactful  Mr.  Warder  nois 
ily  approached  the  front  of  the  house  by  way  of 
the  kitchen,  where  he  had  been  chumming  with 
Imogene,  and  found  Holly  alone.  Mr.  Warder 
silently  exhibited  something  which  he  was  carry 
ing  with  a  certain  amount  of  timidity. 

"  That  rifle,"  he  said  significantly,  "  was  found 
a  few  minutes  ago  in  a  patch  of  grass  about  a  hun 
dred  yards  in  a  bee-line  from  the  corral  where,  I 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  327 

think  you  will  remember,  you  were  standing  at 
about  that  time.  From  what  Imogene  tells  me,  I 
believe  I'm  not  putting  it  too  strongly  when  I  say 
that  Mr.  Richard  Holly  owes  Miss  Belvawney- 
Balderson  a  great  deal  more  than  his  share  of  the 
Atlas  Mine,  which  he  is  now  preparing  to  swindle 
me  out  of — by  marriage.  Dick !  That  girl  saved 
your  life  to-day,  and  you  never  knew  it!  " 

The  ranchman  looked  ruefully  at  the  dirtied 
rifle,  and  put  out  a  hand  as  if  to  thrust  back  the 
image  of  that  death  which  had  hovered  over  him 
and  been  denied. 

"  She  began  to  save  it  quite  a  while  ago,"  he 
said. 

It  was  characteristic  of  the  Philadelphians  that, 
with  their  marching  orders  once  issued,  they  pre 
pared  for  departure  with  commendable  direct 
ness. 

"  We  leave  in  half  an  hour,  Amy!  "  Mrs.  War 
der  called,  as  she  hurried  up  the  stairs  to  her  room. 
"  Find  someone  to  send  for  Biddle.  Your  uncle 
mustn't  miss  his  train." 

But  Biddle  was  already  in  sight,  walking  in 
from  nowhere  in  particular,  with  a  frown  on  his 
good-looking  face. 

"  Uh-huh,"  said  Biddle,     "  I'll  be  ready,  don't 


328  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

you  fret.  I'm  all  packed  now.  But  San  Francisco 
won't  see  much  of  me,  let  me  state.  I'm  going 
down  to  Burlingame  and  get  in  some  polo.  Monty 
Dupignac  and  the  Remsen  boys  have  been  writing 
to  me  for  a  week."  And  in  order  to  be  quite  sure 
that  he  was  not  left  behind,  Biddle  carried  his 
trunk  downstairs  in  his  arms  and  seated  himself  on 
it,  on  the  porch.  Overhead  were  sounds  of  feet 
moving  hurriedly  about  and  Clarice  and  Amy 
laughing  over  the  rush  of  packing.  People  passed 
and  repassed  him — Mike  and  Harry,  and  Drybone 
getting  his  teams  out  of  the  corral  and  hitching 
up — Cobrita,  with  the  smallest  of  her  dogs  under 
her  arm,  tripping  by  with  a  smile  into  the  house. 
The  telephone-bell  tinkled  after  a  time,  and  he  an 
swered  it.  He  wrote  out  the  telegram  carefully 
and  read  it  through  twice.  Then  he  opened  his 
mouth  in  silent  amazement.  For  a  moment  his 
eye  dwelt  calculatively  on  the  quotation  sheet  on 
the  wall,  but  he  soon  shook  his  head  disgustedly 
and  went  back  to  his  seat  on  the  trunk. 

Clarice  appeared  in  the  doorway,  and  Biddle 
rose  and  bowed. 

"  I'm  sorry  everyone's  going  away,"  the  girl 
said,  straightforwardly.  "  It's  been  very  nice,  has 
n't  it?" 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  329 

"  I  guess  it  will  be  pleasanter  when  we're  gone," 
he  said,  with  a  faint  smile. 

"  You  speak  as  if  we'd  never  meet  again." 

"  Shall  we?  "  he  asked  doubtfully. 

"  I  don't  see  why  not,"  was  the  honest  answer. 
"  I  don't  know  any  reason  why  I  shouldn't  be 
pleasant  to  you,  or  you  to  me." 

"  It  would  never  be  hard  work  for  me"  he  said 
unsteadily.  "  But  I  can  see  now  that  it  would  be 
useless  to  expect  anything  more  than  that  on  you'r 
part.  However,  if  you're  going  to  marry  Holly 
you're  in  luck,"  said  Biddle  frankly.  "  He's  a 
corker.  He's  all  right.  And  Amy  seems  to  be  up 
to  something,  too.  Somebody  named  '  David  '  has 
made  a  pot  of  money." 

"  WHAT'S  THAT?"  gasped  Amy,  appearing 
on  the  scene  in  her  traveling  dress.  "  Don't  tell 
me  it  really  went  through!  " 

"  Something  did,"  laughed  Biddle,  for  the  first 
time.  "  According  to  to-day's  market,  your 
4  David '  boy  is  about  five  thousand  ahead  of  the 
game." 

"  I'm  going  to  faint,  Clarice,  I  know  I  am," 
cried  Amy,  with  a  convincing  scream.  "  Support 
me  whilst  I  swoon.  David  has  actually  made  some 
money  at  last !  " 


330  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

The  wagons,  with  Drybone  and  the  Wild  Man, 
drew  up  in  front  of  the  house.  While  the  trunks 
were  being  loaded  on,  Mrs.  Warder,  fully  ac 
coutred,  came  down  the  stairs  and  those  who  were 
going  away  and  those  who  were  to  stay,  began  to 
say  good-by. 

"  But  what  shall  I  do  with  the  dog,  Cobrita?  " 
Amy  was  saying  to  the  Snake  Lady,  who  seemed 
quite  tearful  over  the  loss  of  so  helpful  a  hand  at 
trousseau-m^kmg.  "  You're  just  a  dear  to  give 
me  the  tricksiest  one.  How  shall  I  treat  it?  I  never 
had  a  dog,  or  anything." 

"  Just  feed  it,  I  guess,"  said  Cobrita  with  a 
gulp.  "  And  write  to  me  next  month  as  '  Mrs. 
Harry  Doogan.'  That's  all  I  want." 

Imogene  and  Mrs.  Warder  exchanged  a  few 
low-toned  words,  but  were  interrupted  by  Alta- 
mont,  who  seemed  quite  excited  over  something 
and  very  bright. 

"  When  you  are  home  again  in  Philadelphia," 
the  little  man  said,  and  there  was  a  sudden  silence, 
"  I  hope  a  sight  of  the  old  Friends1  Meeting 
House  down  in  Washington  Square  will  remind 
you  pleasantly  of  us.  I  used  to  live  right  next 
door  when  I  was  a  little  boy." 

"YOU!"   gasped   Mrs.   Warder,  while  they 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  331 

listened  in  amazement.     "  You  lived  in  Philadel 
phia?" 

"  Oh,  dear,  yes,"  said  the  little  man  mildly. 
"  Our  family  always  lived  there.  They  were 
'  Friends,7  you  know — ever  since  Robert  Morris's 


time." 


The  lady  looked  at  him  in  a  frightened  way 
for  a  moment,  but  nothing  but  truth,  long  con 
cealed,  but  none  the  less  veracious,  beamed  in  the 
little  man's  eye. 

"And  where  did  your  ancestors  live?"  he 
asked  gently. 

Mrs.  Warder,  in  her  bewilderment,  was  as  clay 
in  the  hands  of  the  potter. 

"  On  Wood  Street,"  was  the  fatal  answer. 

"  Ah!  Yes,"  said  Altamont  distantly,  with  en 
tire  appreciation  of  the  import  of  the  disclosure. 
"In  that  case  we  can  hardly  expect  them  to  have 


met" 


Once  more  the  Inter-Continentalers  and  Trans- 
Oceanicers  were  gathered  at  the  dinner-table.  In 
the  course  of  re-arrangement  made  necessary  by  the 
departures  they  took  their  seats,  or  other  people's 
seats,  with  rare  uncertainty  and  so  were  not  sur- 


332  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

prised,  on  looking  down  the  long  expanse  of  table, 
to  see  a  little  man  with  straw-colored  eyebrows 
peering  brightly  at  them  over  the  top  of  the  soup 
tureen. 

The  little  man  looked  rejuvenated.  His  hair 
was  no  longer  tufty.  His  collar,  for  once,  was 
fastened  securely  in  the  back.  The  faintly  puzzled- 
light  in  his  eye  had  given  way  to  a  beaming  cer 
tainty,  while  an  entire  comprehension  of  all  that 
was  going  on  about  him  showed  in  his  smiling 
face. 

"  Well,  children, "  announced  Imogene,  march 
ing  in  with  the  roast,  "  it  looks  as  if  the  days  of 
the  old  circus  were  about  over.  Do  I  hear  any 
complaints?  " 

The  circus  nodded  abstractedly.  The  days  of 
wandering,  in  truth,  were  past.  Each  one  felt 
within  himself  or  herself  the  deeply-rooted  con 
viction  that  he  or  she  was  going  to  remain  where 
he  or  she  was  for  as  long  as  was  humanly  pos 
sible.  Then  their  minds  flitted  easily  to  other  di 
versions.  Only  Altamont  spoke,  and  at  his  first 
words  Holly  felt  Clarice's  hand  grasp  his  with  a 
startled  movement. 

"  In  spite  of  the  hard  times  life  has  held  for 
us  so  far,  I  cannot  but  think  that  it  has  all  been 


THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX  333 

worth  while,"  he  was  saying  gently.  "  Perhaps 
the  hardships  have  not  developed  as  much  in  my 
self  as  in  the  others,  as  I  can  see  only  too  plainly, 
but  still "  The  little  man  stopped  and  choked. 

"  Please,  Altamont — no  more  now,"  said  Imo- 
gene,  with  a  quick  breath.  "  We're  going  to  take 
a  little  trip — you  and  me.  We're  going  down 
to  see  a  wise  man  who  can  fix  us  all  up.  We're 
going  to  be  better  now,  and  not  have  any  more 
headaches." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  little  man,  with  truth.  "  I'm 
going  to  be  better  soon.  I  can  feel  it." 

"Going  away,  Imogene?"  came  the  dismayed 
chorus. 

"Oh — just  to  San  Francisco,"  announced  that 
lady  with  a  nonchalant  wave  of  her  hand. 
"  Don't  worry,  chilluns.  I'll  be  back.  We're  just 
going  to  run  down  on  a  little  honeymoon  flyer, 
Altamont  and  me,  because — after  a  good  many 
years  of  hard  work  and  hard  knocks — we've  hit 
the  pay  streak  at  last." 

Without  waiting  for  the  clamor  of  inquiry,  the 
Strong  Woman  tossed  her  napkin  aside  and,  ris 
ing  to  her  feet,  whisked  a  piece  of  paper  out  of  her 
pocket. 

"OH,    YOU    HARRY-AND-MIKE!"    she 


334  THE  DESERT  AND  MRS.  AJAX 

cried  exultantly,  while  she  waved  a  check  before 
their  astounded  eyes.  *  You'll  have  to  go  some 
now  with  your  million-dollar  chicken  crops  and 
your  fancy  pigs  if  you  want  to  catch  old  Imogene, 
even  if  she  did  have  to  mark  it  down  from  five 
thousand  dollars  to  forty-nine-ninety,  'cause 
I'VE— SOLD— MY— MINE !  " 

Into  the  momentary  silence  there  came  a  little 
squeak  of  excitement  from  Altamont,  followed  by 
a  mighty  shout.  And  then,  while  chaos  reigned, 
the  discomfited  Equestrian  Twins  fell  deftly  from 
their  chairs  and  rolled  about  upon  the  floor. 


FINIS 


FOURTEEN  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 


This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


2Jun'55D3 

• 

LD  21-100m-2,'55 
(B139s22)476 

General  Library 
University  of  California 
Berkeley 

YB  33460 


